Wednesday, 21 April 2010

"The Ants Go Marching..."

Okay, so I can live with the fact that our bathroom perpetually smells like a petrol station loo.

And I can live with the fact that somehow, when the majority of local restaurants and beach shacks close up for the season in a few weeks, I'm going to have to concoct meals for our little family of four using a motley collection of substandard pots and pans, with a limited assortment of foodstuffs (dried pasta, baked beans, oatmeal, bread, flour, Nutella and eggs), whilst using a tabletop two burner gas contraption (which I might add, would not be out of place in a camping tent).

I've learned to keep myself relatively clean and fairly decent smelling (thought the husband might disagree) by taking numerous showers throughout the day.

And I've resigned myself to the fact that all my clothes now smell the same after they come back from the 'laundry' (not unlike if you took a dirty load of washing and put it through the drying cycle of your washer/dryer machine by mistake).

But what I'm REALLY having a hard time coming to terms with are the cockroaches and ants.

There is a baby cockroach that lives under our bed. This is bad. Baby cockroaches mean that there has been some serious bug lovemaking occurring right under our noses. I realised how immune I was getting to the whole off-putting scene the other day when I spied what looked like a giant cockroach on our kitchen burner.

"Is it a beetle?" I squeaked to the husband hopefully...begging - no wanting him to lie to me.

"Ummm. Nope," he said, making a grimace and getting back to washing the dishes.

"Get over it."


But I kind of had my revenge the other day when I noticed that the last of his beloved peanut bars (incased within a not-very-well-sealed cellophane wrap) was being molested by several tiny ants. I meant to throw it out but must have forgotten.

Later that day I passed the husband crunching away on that selfsame peanut bar.

I stopped.

"That bar had ants crawling all over it," I said with a smirk.

"Oh yeah? I don't see any ants," he muttered.

He looked closer, then threw away the bar in disgust, seeing that it was ridden with tiny crawling ants.

"Urghh!" he said, "I probably just ate a load of ants!"

("Get over it" I thought to myself)

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