Once upon a time, we had an ant problem. Ants invaded our house, but we fought back, and we conquered the ants. Unfortunately, I do not remember how we conquered the ants, and this is a problem because… the ants are back. Damn.
Last Wednesday, it rained all day. I huddled inside, braising short ribs and pretending to be productive. The ants decided to seek refuge from the rain inside our house.
When I found the ants last week, I was initially annoyed - the little bastards were attacking my purse! Then, I had a flashback to the weekend before: I ordered oatmeal for breakfast at a restaurant; I accidentally spilled the brown sugar that comes with the oatmeal into my purse; and then, lazy me, I never cleaned it up. Now the ants were gorging themselves on the brown sugar in my purse. Of course. I did not invite the ants into our house, but I did lay out a feast for their arrival.
I banished my purse to the backyard and hoped that would solve the ant problem. It did not.
This morning, the ants were marching on our kitchen sink. It was time to declare war.
First, I was patient and watched the ants. I needed to determine their point of invasion. And my patience was rewarded: the ants were entering through a crack in the ceiling by our back door. Clever ants, very clever. BUT I AM MORE CLEVER.
After some internet searches, I chose my weapons: vinegar and cinnamon. I poured white vinegar on some paper towels and wiped up the line of marching ants. It was mass murder, but I felt no remorse. Once I had destroyed the ants' scent trail, I piled a little cinnamon by the invasion point. A few survivors approached the pile of cinnamon, and ha, I had found their Kryptonite. I could tell from their little antennas that they were having a big ant freak out. Then, I wiped up the last ants with vinegar because we cannot have any survivors reporting back to the queen.
I love the smell of vinegar in the morning.