Mr. Pest

Recently we had a small ant problem in a confined area of our kitchen. It wasn't in an area where food was kept and the counter was cleaned and sanitized daily so I was a bit flummoxed as to where they were coming from. Well, after whacking away at the counter with a magazine one to many times, I called the pest control man. Of course the only time he could come happened to coincide with my husband being out of town. I dreaded this for a couple of reasons:

1) Our dog (Jake) goes looney whenever I'm home alone and a man other than Scott is in the house. (Not that I make that a habit, but you know what I mean.)

2) I'm a creature of habit and this was going to throw my schedule WAY OFF! I know, I know - get over it already.

So I put Jake outside and let Mr. Pest into the house. Now the ants must have heard me making the appointment because they are now nowhere to be found. Mr. Pest explains to me that this is the WORST possible scenario as that means they are now living inside the walls and the house will soon self-destruct from the inside out. I basically told him to stick his poison wand in the electrical outlet and give it a good squirt and I would take my chances on the house falling down around me.

Seeing as we have now discovered that the ants are building condos in my walls, Mr. Pest will of course have to spray the entire house as well as around the outside perimeter as opposed to doing a localized shot. I had expected this anyway, but by this time I was getting cranky and tired of dealing with Mr. Pest and the fact that instead of spraying he was leaning against my counter explaining proper preventative measures against roaches and other creepy-crawlies.

ANTS - we have ANTS

I was starting to weigh the cost/benefit of allowing Jake back into the house...

Finally he gets to work. Did I mention that our home has three stories? He wore a path in our stairs because apparently it is impossible to spray one floor at a time. First you spray all the NW corners of the rooms and then you circle back around and capture all the SE corners. Up and down the stairs, up and down the stairs...

By this time I was positive he was NOT a pest control man (but still quite certain he was Mr. Pest), but was in fact casing the house to come back later while I was asleep.

Time to meet JAKE!

I brought Jake in, keeping him on his leash, and allowed his death stare of protectiveness to be noticed. Mr. Pest finished up soon after that and launched into his sales pitch on monthly visits. Are you kidding me??? You have been here 3 hours (Truth!). I should have enough poison running through the walls of my house that the neighbors shouldn't even have to call pest control for the next year.

I wrote him a check and guided him firmly to the door as he continued to blather. Never again! I don't care if we become one of the lucky few in Tennessee who find snakes in their dishwashers, my husband will have to deal with it! Actually, if I ever found a snake in my dishwasher my husband would have to deal with it anyway as I would be dead of fright on the floor.

I don't normally buy into the traditional gender stereotypical roles, but of this I am now certain...the MAN should have to kill the BUG! Or at least deal with the other man who is killing the bug...