We've been battling ants in our kitchen for 2 weeks now. And I'm done.
While I've been smashing the little bastards for two weeks, Jeremy has finally had a full weekend at home and decided early Friday evening that he too was done with the ants.
Friday he bought some ant bait things that look more like roach motels. I question him on this, because I didn't get a chance to see a box before the trashed it and I don't trust him, making sure he is fully confident they are for ants and not roaches. He swears they're for ants. The ants however, walk right by their motels and carry on throwing a party on my stove and bordering counter tops.
Saturday Jeremy pulls out the stove, cleaning down the sides the back, the floor, and under the burners. Ants now enjoy their shiny dance floor to mock us on.
Sunday brings rearranging of things on counter tops. All closed, seal tight containers with food get moved to another counter. If the ants follow, I'll know the reason why. The only thing they seem to notice is there is more available dance space and why not invite a few more friends.
Today, the damned ants are out in full gay force. Still walking right past the bait. Still infesting the stove and two side counters. Ignoring the fact we've moved all the the yummy goods to another side of our teeny tiny kitchen.
Fabulous. Now I have to wait until my jeans are dry so I can throw on a pair of shorts and walk to the Apartment's Office to file a complaint.
Next on the Bad Day list: My kid has a raging rash from neck to waist line and our great, fabulous, wonderful Naval clinic I did not request but were assigned to anyhow can't get us in until tomorrow.
This is the second time I've needed an appointment Like, NOW! and it can't be done. Seeing how Kyra might just overload the Navy's system with a brief visit to her doctor and all. I mean, last time we went (read: two weeks ago for a completely different reason) Kyra's appointment was for 7:30 in the morning and it still took 45 minutes to be seen and even then not a single damned thing got resolved. I realized then that what all my pessimistic friends had been saying about this particular clinic were entirely true and not so much just a pessimistic statement.
Kyra's not a rashy kid. She's never had a rash that covered anymore then her ass cheeks. A random rash popping up that covers half her body... is not something I'm willing to wait until tomorrow to have looked at.
So I threw a temper tantrum over the phone. We'll be seen at 3:30 by another clinic.
Tomorrow Kyra is getting out of TriCare Prime (which is FREE!) and will be moved to TriCare Standard (which we'll be shelling out money for) because I hate the Navy's lack of medical concern here in the Mason Dixon Line.
Now, lets hope that Kyra either has a) a minor rash from God only knows where and there's a simple quick fix or b) this could be the beginning of Chicken Pox and she won't have to have yet another pointless shot to fuck with her immune system simply so she may attend kindergarten.
Lets also hope I can find the local TriCare ("insurance office" for you lucky enough to be in the civilian world) and they make the jump from FREE! TriCare to PAY UP, BITCH TriCare an easy, wham-bam-thank you ma'am process.
****UPDATED! Ants will be destroyed Wednesday morning. God bless the pest control man!