ZZZzzzzzzz.......

"People who say they sleep like a baby usually don't have one. ~Leo J. Burke"

The past several days have been an unexpected study in sleep deprivation. I returned home Friday evening to discover that Danielle, our youngest, had a high fever. Despite giving her some children's Tylenol, her temperature continued to climb. After a quick trip to the InstaCare, we spent the entire weekend doping our little girl up on Tylenol and Ibuprofen. All day long. All night long.

So I haven't really been able to get a single thing done since last Thursday, except poison the anthole next to our patio. Now there's an interesting thing to talk about!

I watched the swarm of ants on the corner of our patio, most of them working furiously at the drippings underneath the barbecue. They would break loose a chunk here and there and race it back down into the anthole. Enter the Dark Lord of Insecticide. I placed a couple of ant-bait traps underneath the barbecue, about a foot away from the stuff the ants had been working on. Almost immediately, the tide of traffic turned, and scores of ants were carrying the bait back to the anthole.

ant659: Whooowee! Can you believe this stuff? Tastes good and smells good!

ant3771: No thanks; I'll stick to congealed barbecue sauce. Don't you know that anything worth having is worth working for?

ant659: Prude!

ant3771: Don't you think it a bit strange that these two black plastic convenience stores appear out of nowhere, stocked to the hilt with this stuff?

ant659: Whatever.

I thought it ironic that even though a certain percentage of the ants still remained hard at work with the barbecue sauce, they would also die from the foolish choices of their friends. You could draw some interesting parallels from that, and while you do, I'll be sweeping hundreds of lifeless black dots from my patio.