The Exterminator

We have an ant problem. Whenever the weather gets rainy, they invade. Sometimes they are all over a cookie crumb that made its way to a remote corner of the house, sometimes it's some sticky gunk left by little hands on the walls. The other day they had invaded our shower. They seemed to be after my shaving cream. Why, I couldn't tell you. Maybe Ryan could. So, they came through a crack in the wall, across the floor, over the sink, down the wall and into the shower. Being the good wife that I am, I decided to leave them for my husband. (Guys like feeling useful, eh?---pure laziness on my part.)

Later that day, I stepped into my bathroom only to find...gross! There was urine all over the floor. And lots of dead ants. I quickly deduced that this was the work of my eldest.

"Brandon?!?"

"What?"

"Why did you pee all over the floor?" I asked.

He looked at me and promptly replied, "I was just spraying the ants, Mom."

I took a deep breath and said, "Guess what you get to do? Go get some paper towels."