If you are lucky enough (or unlucky depending on your perspecitive) enough to live in the lower half of the US, then you’ve dealt with those horrid little scourges of every parent whose children love the outdoors: fire ants. They look so innocent, so docile, so…..well….tiny. How could they inflict such misery? Oh, but they do…..believe me, they do.
In the not too distant past I’ve had to rescue my children from fire ants. It usually starts with a small wail, rising to a steady moan, and then an all out scream by one or more of the children under assault. This pushes me into what I like to call, fire ant crisis mode. Simply put, as the chief fire ant crisis director, I assess the situation at the scene, then determine the severity of the assault. If only a few individual ants are involved, I let them off with a stern look and a firm warning. However, there have been occasions where entire mounds needed to be reminded who was boss. Oh, it’s all very legit in our house. We even have a song to accompany the ordeal.
