I woke up this morning feeling sad about the ants, picturing them shriveling up and dying alone in the walls or clumped in their nest or wherever else ants go to die. Dane tried to assure me that we took care of them for a long time; we fed them, gave them water and shelter. But it was time for us to devote our energy to more important tasks. Ant removal was the best way.

I was not entirely reassured.

Then we got in our shiny car and drove to Los Angeles for a pretty party in the rain. And when we came home, seven hours later, guess what was waiting on the kitchen counters to greet us?

If you guessed KEYS TO A NEW CAR, you’re wrong. If you guessed WINNING LOTTERY TICKET, you’re wrong. If you guessed INGREDIENTS TO MAKE DINNER, SEEING AS WE GOT HOME AT 7:00PM, you’d be wrong! And by now you’ve surely tired of guessing, so I’ll go ahead and reveal our mystery prize. It’s small, black, crawly, and follows a trail of thousands of other small black crawlies—it’s… ANTS! Coming in from a fresh new spot.

I have ceased to mourn for the ants. I’m back to wishing they were gone. And I’m pretty sure they will be, within seven to ten days. At which point I reserve the right to once again express a twinge of melancholy over their demise.