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Portrait of an Admirable Lady: the common ant
When is it better to have a hundred insects in your home than a single insect on your porch? When the lone insect stands taller than you, wears a pest control cap, is more thick-skinned than any creature with an exoskeleton could be, and is cockier than a cockroach. (For the record, my household insects are ants, but "cockier than an ant" just didn't sound that great.)
If you have watched animated kids' movies like "Antz" or "Ant Bully," you probably consider yourself an expert on entomology. Heck, you even know what "entomology" means – that alone should be qualification enough. But I have not only watched both movies, I have also read a kid's book or two on the subject, so HA! My qualifications trump yours.
Our local library has "Those Amazing Ants" by Patricia Brennan Demuth with gorgeous and engaging illustrations by S. D. Schindler. Now be patient while I feed you a little ant information:
1. All the ants we see (the ones doing all the work) are female ants.
2. Male ants have wings so they can catch the queen on her mating flight.
3. Males seem to be needed only for (oh, joy!) procreation. Then they die.
4. The queen plucks off her wings (enough flying around to check out the dudes) and begins a lifetime of laying eggs.
5. A queen can live to be fifteen years old, and can lay a million eggs.
6. Anthills are formed from the dirt these women (sorry, ants) dig out.
7. Some homes have hundreds of rooms that are interconnected by tunnels.
8. Each room has a specific purpose: pantry, sickroom, nursery, and the queen's den.
9. Most ants have a garbage dump outside their mound, because they can't abide messes.
10. Ants lick and comb themselves and each other clean.
11. Ants curl up for sleeping, and yawn and stretch when they awake.
12. Nursery workers lick the larvae clean and feed them regurgitated food (proving the universal appeal of baby food.)
13. Nursery workers take the baby ants outside on nice days for fresh air and sunshine (proving the universal appeal of park days.)
14. Some kinds of ants keep crickets as pets for their music (proving the universal appeal of music).
15. Some dairy ants "milk" aphids by stroking their backs.
16. An ant can lift ten times her own weight (proving the modern appeal of women who workout).
Given these uncanny and admirable human qualities, why would you harm these industrious little creatures? By comparison, it was the man on my porch who turned out to be the real pest I wanted to be rid of. See how irritated I still am? I just ended a sentence with a preposition. Darn! I have a special term for males who can make you lose your composure and your grammar-dignity all at once by their annoying behavior. This term will probably have to be censored, but I call a man like this a pesticle.
I know what you're thinking. I should be kinder and more compassionate. After all, isn't the economy in bad shape? What if I wind up on your doorstep tomorrow, pushing paintings, pesticides, or vacuum cleaners? Shouldn't I treat a guest on my porch as I might like to be treated?
I've spent plenty of time on the porch already, thanks to years in high school marching bands, which are notoriously "broke." We pedaled chocolates, Florida citrus fruit, cleaning products, and the worst ever: light bulbs. Whose bright idea was the light bulb fundraiser? The reasoning was that everyone needs light bulbs anyway.
Trust me, at $ 5.95 per incandescent bulb, lots of people managed to ignore this basic human need. My only relief in those selling years was that we never resorted to selling toilet paper.
No matter how revolutionary or necessary your product is, selling door-to-door feels like little more than an acceptable form of begging: "Please, please, please...I know I was here three months ago, but really, this is a small town, and I've got a quota. Our band needs money. Yes, again. I'm sorry, but can I just show you one of these brochures and explain how special these overpriced light bulbs are?"
I'm surprised my parents had any friends left after my years of pushing products. This was back in those days when kids didn't think it odd to go around unaccompanied to odd neighborhoods. We rang doorbells and knocked on doors to sell whatever qualified for that season's spectacular fundraiser. Despite this all-American form of begging, I never recall getting mouthy when the potential customer didn't sign on the dotted line. Yet, this guy, Insect-Man, did. Next week, like an industrious little ant, I’ll tell you all about it.
LOL thank you! do they have people control(aka bug control,lol) that you could have called?
hugs, karen
Posted by beaniefamily
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