My first thought as I flicked an ant off the counter the other day was, "Smart little thing. If you go hungry here there is no hope for you. Absolutely no hope." That's because it doesn't matter if I clean my floors once or ten times a day, they are still fit for a feast for ants or even small children. (Though I really would rather parents of the latter didn't let their kids eat off the floor. I try not to let mine, most of the time anyways.)
So, as I mentally did the slow clap for those pesky little ants, I couldn't help but think back to how different my response was to ants in my kitchen earlier in my parenting years. I freaked out. Fuh-reeeaaaked out. I mean how could ants be in my kitchen. Surely my housekeeping skills were not up to par. I tore apart my pantry in an effort to containerize every last particle of food so the dreaded ants wouldn't taint our food supply. I'd say that's rather the opposite of how I responded this week. The same can be said for my life in general.
One of the best things about getting older is gaining perspective. As each year passes, it becomes harder and harder to worry about some of those little things that used to make me crazy. That's a good thing, because I have to use way too many brain cells to answer questions like, "Mom, how many ants would it take to carry a chair?"
My answer: "I'm not sure, but I bet we'll know in a few weeks." Oh, I'm kidding. I bought some ant traps and nagged my poor hubby to death about spraying some insecticide around the outside of the house. Until then, I'll enjoy a more laid back (if ever so slightly) approach to life. There are more important things to think about, like why, oh why my children can't seem to master toilet flushing.