Remember my post last year about the fire ants? Well, it's already that time of year again here in the south. Today the girls and I went to someone's house to purchase their co-sleeper through Cherry Point Yard Sales. When we got there, and I got out of the car, I saw the ant mound at the edge of the driveway, but thought I would be fine as long as I didn't step on it. It was on the side that Delaney was on. I unbuckled her and let her out, away from the mound, then went around to the other side to get Annie. It was while I was unbuckling Annie that I started to notice a pins-and-needles sensation on my feet, as if they were waking up. I thought, 'That's strange, my feet weren't asleep. I must be having some circulation problems.' And then I looked down and saw the ants all over my feet and starting to work their way up my ankles. They were surrounding our car. I backed away from the car, and took off my flipflops, rubbing at my feet and ankles madly, to get them all off. On the other side of the car, the woman who lived there was taking Delaney's flipflops off for her and doing the same thing. She was very apologetic, but I was quick to tell her we'd had our own experiences with fire ants at our house last year. I understood. I told her how last year, the girls had stepped in a mound, and I ended up stripping them down in the front yard like a madwoman, slapping and rubbing at their bodies to get the ants off. If I hadn't had my own fire ants to contend with, I might have thought, 'I'm not buying anything from a house that has fire ants!'
Then we all went inside where I, with my feet and ankles still smarting from ant bites, looked at the co-sleeper. Delaney never said a thing, so I don't think she got it as bad as I did.
The good news is that, unlike what my internet research led me to believe, an ant attack is not an unfathomable hell. At least not around here. Maybe elsewhere in the country, or even elsewhere in this state, it is. Foot-waking-up kind of pain I can handle. But it's still only April, and I'm worried we're in for a long summer with these nasty little nuisances.