Officially, I have three housemates at the moment.
Unofficially, I have several hundred.
We have an ant problem, you see. I have no major objections to them on principle, but I really don't want them in my kitchen. Rather like tinned sardines, actually, and Angel Delight. This association between ants and food may seem strange to some, but I have actually eaten ants, albeit inadvertently. During a week's camping trip in France, I stupidly left an open bag of ready salted crisps in my already ant-infested tent. One nap time, whilst reading, I absentmindedly reached for the bag of crisps and started eating them. Only after a couple of handfuls did I realise that the black bits were not pepper.
I tell you this that you may better understand my reluctance to allow the ants the run of the kitchen, and my decision to wage war against them using shock, awe and a hoover.
Back to the cupboard now. I think there's some ant powder in there somewhere.
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