We found ants in our kitchen this morning.
I freaked out. Like yelled at them and started tearing apart the kitchen looking for more so I could KILL them.
This is curious to me. We always had ants in our house growing up. It was just a part of life living where we were overseas. I never freaked out at ants when I was a kid. I just ignored them, for the most part. Or squashed them with my fingers. Cockroaches bothered me, but ants never did.
I have a distinct memory of laying in bed at the age of maybe 11. A trail of ants was marching past my bed and I just watched them, fascinated. Eventually, when I couldn't sleep I would just start methodically squashing them one by one.
That sounds pretty sick now that I'm writing it down. I promise I'm not sadistic.
But anyway, I find myself wondering, what is this fundamental change that has taken place in me? How did the little girl who calmly squashed ants with her fingers while falling asleep turn into a shrieking, rampaging, spatula wielding ant hater? Guys, I actually had to have Ryan take care of a few of them, I was so enraged by these ants.
I think I'm going soft with so much time spent in the U.S.
Comments (4)
Today, I was talking to Jarrett who recently came back from the Phillipines. After spending 30 minutes ranting about office work, deadlines, church politics and how I had to go back because I had a meeting, I thought to myself - "OMG! I have become an American."
@awordfromym - It sneaks up on you, doesn't it?!
I miss our book discussions. I know that doesn't have anything to do with your post about Americanization, but... there it is.
I seem to remember that in Senegal, if you aw one or two ants and didn't go crazy with the Raid and use it on their trail like napalm, they would grow in number like the hydra's heads and then you'd have an ant colony between your bathtub and shower curtain, or between your pillow and the wall it was propped against so you could lean back on it... And yes, those are true stories.
So maybe you were right to freak out.