They're EVERYWHERE

So last night we stayed at my 92-year-old grandmother Romey's house in Rockingham, North Carolina. We parked our camper hidden behind her house, because she was worried people might drive by, see it, and try to break into the camper.

Little did we know we parked right on top of a huge colony of red fire ants.

I wake up at 9:00, and Lily is still fast asleep so I lounge around for an hour, reading a magazine. Lily wakes up at around 10:00, and Romey "asks" us if we want breakfast. Apparently cereal isn't good enough for Lily and me - she practically insists cooking us eggs, sausages, grits, toast, and coffee. We appease my 92 year old grandma by accepting the offer, but only under the condition that I help her, to which she replies, "Now don't you worry baby I'll fix it, now sit down with 'ya girlfriend and read your magazine."

Lily and I sit down with Romey and enjoy our wonderful breakfast, and after I am able to sneak next to the sink and start cleaning the dishes. She notices the second I turn the water on, and she demands, "Oh baby I'll take care'v those." Like an offensive lineman protecting the quarterback from a blitzing linebacker, I cut her off, "Romey I'll take care of these finish your breakfast!" She's the boss and we're the guests, but I'm three times her size and there's now way she's doing these dishes. I'm relaxed, enjoying my time with Romey, and now I'm helping.

Meanwhile, Lily sneaks out to the camper to grab her deoderant. She opens the door and sees an ant crawling across the step. Then a few more on next step up, then...

"Uh honey we have red ants in our camper," Lily says as I'm scrubbing away. I shrug, figuring it's just a few and we just need to clean up a bit and they'll go away. "Lots of ants", she says, sensing that I don't understand the urgency of the situation. "Like, all over the place." I walk out and jump in the camper. She wasn't kidding. They're crawling everywhere - on the floor, on the stove, in the stove, in the oven, on the cushions, under the cushions, in the sink, on the walls...everywhere. Red ants bite. And when they bite, it hurts...a lot.

Lily jumped in the driver's seat and moved the camper out of the yard and into the driveway. Romey points out the huge anthill we accidentally parked on, and covers it with sawdust-like at poison in a bag. We finished the bag in the camper - we put the stuff on every surface, in every crevice we could think of. It did a pretty good job of shriveling up those pesky little things. A couple hours later, with nary a single little ant left in sight, we vacuumed and scrubbed the place like crazy. Now we're on the road, and it's a lot better, but we've seen and killed about ten more ants since the first monstrous onslaught. There's bound to be some stragglers, but hopefully the vast majority met their maker.

Still, our short stay with Romey was great. We spent some quality time with her, and she taught me how to make her southern fried chicken! She sent us packing with a fridge full of food...chicken, sweet potato pudding, cake...I feel like I'm being fattened up for Thanksgiving. Now we're headed through North Caroline, South Carolina, and Georgia on our way to my sister's house in Atlanta, where I'll be cooking up a storm in preparation for the arrival of Mia Heather, my neice-to-be. And then...who knows?!?!

-Wax