Death by PB&J

Yesterday morning, while racing through my post-shower routine (lotion, hair, etc.), I noticed ants in the sink. Closer inspection revealed quite a few ants running up and down the shelving and around the sink. Now, ants are not anywhere NEAR as gross as, say, roaches or mice, but I still don't want them in my house. I made a mental note to ask A. if we had any ant bait around.

And then I forgot, of course.

A few hours later, I remembered the ants. I also remembered that borax is often used as an ant killer. I don't know why I knew that, but I did. We always have borax around, since it's an integral ingredient in our laundry mucous. I asked A. if he knew how to make ant bait, if the borax had to be mixed with sugar or something to make it enticing to the ants. He didn't know, so I turned, as always, to the Internet. Also known as The Font of All Knowledge.

I learned that ants, much like me, sometimes want sweets and sometimes want protein. So the borax could be mixed with a sweet thing--such as jelly, honey, or molasses--or with a protein like peanut butter. I rummaged around in the refrigerator where all the old, strangely textured jams and jellies go to die, until I found some watery grape-mulberry syrup. That went on one plate with the Borax of Death, while another plate held a delicious mixture of poison and peanut butter. Then I put both plates on the floor of the bathroom* and watched the drama unfold.

The (admittedly small and somewhat anticlimactic) drama consisted of ants swarming both plates, and then the ants disappearing entirely. The hope is that they took the poisoned goodies home to the colony, thence to poison their comrades.

Mass destruction by PB&J. Who knew such an innocent childhood treat could be turned to such nefarious purposes?

* The bathroom in which the door is always closed, which means none of the animals can get in there to eat poisoned food. An important consideration.