Holy crap, baby powder is totally it. I sprinkled liberally in certain key areas in the bathroom: dusted across the threshold into the hall, powdered around the sink, mounded by the crack between the floor and the wall where they get in. And I got back from James Bond class last night and there was nary an ant to be seen. Those amusing strolls up the shower curtain? Over. Those languid afternoons chatting on the windowsill? No more. Exotic safaris around the faucet? Your pith helmet has been retired. I have wiped out the ant populace in my bathroom.
Earlier in the day, I tried a direct-hit to see how the ant took it. It was, as the website on which I found this cure on predicted, upset.
I am officially not a Buddhist.
Now on to bay leaves in the kitchen (thanks, Doretta).
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3 comments:
wow! i should try that! i've got antz crawling all over my shower head. i kinda like them though...
I have not had ants near my crotch for a good decade now. Draw your own conclusions.
Ah. I should have noted this at the top of the blog, but no comments about Jeremy's balls are permitted on this website.
Thank you for your cooperation.
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