Last night as I was getting ready for bed, and with my husband away on business, I became aware of the fact that I was not alone. Much to my horror, there was a growing squadron of small, black, flying bugs appearing everywhere, alighting on the various lampshades that dot our home. (I hate overhead lighting.) Upon closer inspection, which sadly was all too unavoidable, they looked to be ants, each equipped with a set of fairy wings, like those little girls on Halloween. I freaked.
Fairly soon I was checking in to the Comfort Suites out on Route 1, about a mile and a half from my house. Had my husband been home, this step would not have been necessary, as I would have felt protected, and less alone in the situation. Alas, he was not. Business travel, he makes all the money blah, blah, Chicago, Philadelphia, yada yada yada. The point is, he is gone a lot.
Since I love my husband and would like to keep him, I think it is appropriate for me to have a second husband. He could possibly own a hardware store in town and thus always be around, being handy since he would also be good at fixing things. He would definitely know what to do about those bugs, or at least Google them. Actually, Mitch offered to do this when I first mentioned them on the phone, but he was driving and would have to find a place to pull over, whereas this other husband would be right there with me. I'm thinking this marrying-two-men thing should be legal. What's so bad about it? Seems like a win-win to me.
Anyway, back home this morning, Mitch having returned in the night, we surveyed the devastation. The house was covered with these so-called "flying ants." We went inside and found no dead bodies from the night before, so I suppose they are lurking somewhere, waiting for the lamps to come back on. Research revealed they really are called flying ants, and every 15 years they come out for one day, to breed. Then they go back down to their underground headquarters to raise their young. This is something I am sorry to have learned about, and hope I can forget.
Fairly soon I was checking in to the Comfort Suites out on Route 1, about a mile and a half from my house. Had my husband been home, this step would not have been necessary, as I would have felt protected, and less alone in the situation. Alas, he was not. Business travel, he makes all the money blah, blah, Chicago, Philadelphia, yada yada yada. The point is, he is gone a lot.
Since I love my husband and would like to keep him, I think it is appropriate for me to have a second husband. He could possibly own a hardware store in town and thus always be around, being handy since he would also be good at fixing things. He would definitely know what to do about those bugs, or at least Google them. Actually, Mitch offered to do this when I first mentioned them on the phone, but he was driving and would have to find a place to pull over, whereas this other husband would be right there with me. I'm thinking this marrying-two-men thing should be legal. What's so bad about it? Seems like a win-win to me.
Anyway, back home this morning, Mitch having returned in the night, we surveyed the devastation. The house was covered with these so-called "flying ants." We went inside and found no dead bodies from the night before, so I suppose they are lurking somewhere, waiting for the lamps to come back on. Research revealed they really are called flying ants, and every 15 years they come out for one day, to breed. Then they go back down to their underground headquarters to raise their young. This is something I am sorry to have learned about, and hope I can forget.
If ants are such busy workers, how come they find time to go to all the picnics?
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