Big Trouble

Spring has finally arrived.

I know this without a doubt. Not because last Tuesday it was snowing and this Tuesday it was seventy-eight degrees, but because of one thing that  happens every spring at our house.

But first! A story:

One of my very best friends is a school bus driver, among other things. Many years ago she had a little boy on her bus we will call Billy Bob. Billy Bob came from a very, uh, lax home life and cussed like a sailor.

However; his all wise mama advised him not to cuss on Friend's bus or he'd "get his a** kicked from here to kingdom come."

Friend asked him did he understand what that meant and he said, "Yes," and then proceeded to list a string of profanity a mile long.

"Okay. As long as you know," said friend.

Friend also works as an aide to children with special needs, so she is at school all day. Billy Bob spotted her in the area and came running, intense and solemn on his errand.

"Ma'am, we got trouble. Big trouble."

"What is it, Billy Bob?"

"Aints. Piss Aints."

Well, to coin a phrase, we got trouble at our house. Big trouble.

They enter our upstairs bathroom every year, headed for the cat food. They form a conga line and dance their way to and fro, driving us as well as the cats, crazy.

Husband found a eucalyptus based spray that won't hurt the cats but kills the ants, so he's going go hunt that up tomorrow and start spraying.

But until then....

It's trouble. Big trouble.