not fun

Got home from a trip to the farm today with an under-napped and hungry, but not starving, baby. I was planning on putting him in his high chair so he could hopefully amuse himself with his new crayons and paper while I made our lunch. I walked into the kitchen and found that would not be possible. Massive ant invasion. From the side living room window to all over the dining room floor, of course congregated under said baby's high chair (no, I did not mop after breakfast). I had to take care the ants, fast. They were all over the place. I hate ants with the power of a thousand burning suns. Thet were the bane of my exisitence as a child. Dealing with ant invasions is far below wiping my cat's ass in terms of unpleasant chores.

But I digress...

So, yeah, I had to take care of the ants.

Under normal circumstances this would be odious, but with a cranky child the fun gets cranked up to eleven. It took me roughly 45 minutes to kill/clean up all the ants, mop the floor twice, removing even the tiniest hints of Cherrio crumbs, and make our lunches. For the entire forty five minutes (save for the few instances where he forget to be angry) I got to listen to S. whine and scream because I had put him in the living room on the other side of the safety fence. I felt awful for him because I knew he was hungry and tired (of course he refused to nap later), but there was nothing I could do. I couldn't keep him in the kitchen with me while I was mopping like someone's deranged housekeeper and I couldn't leave the ants for later. And he is fourteen months old and could see me the whole time and he wasn't in trouble, etc. He was just pissed. Understandably pissed, but a pissed off toddler is not my idea of fun. Ever. Add thousands of ants to the equation and it starts to reach a certain level of hell.

Urgh.

It seems the ants are under control for now. I hope it stays that way.

Music in the morning and two Halloween parties for S. in the afternoon/evening.