Cops and Ant Exorcism

See this? This is my front door. Austin and I were out in our garage Saturday when our neighbor came over and told us that our front door had been open from Wednesday--Thursday. "Then I called the cops," she said, "Just to make sure no one had broken in or anything. The policeman went in and said no one was home, so he just closed the door." She sounded vaguely disappointed that our family hadn't been found lying murdered in a pool of blood. I explained to her that I had probably forgotten to lock it when we left and the wind must have blown it open.

Austin and I went inside, commenting to each other on how it was kind of freaky that our door was open that long, what a nice neighborhood we live in, etc. "Boy," I said. "I'm glad my house was clean!" Austin looked confused. "You know, for when the cops came over." Austin still looked confused. Perhaps he was wondering why I wasn't glad that our stuff hadn't been stolen or maybe just wondering if our house really had been clean because we had only been home for six hours and it was trashed.

In any case, when the cops come over to your house, you want it to be clean, and my house was clean, baby. It's kind of like if you break your leg and have to go to the hospital you want to have just showered and put clean underwear on. What are the odds? So I was pretty happy about that. I did wonder what the cops (one cop?) thought about the cinammon and corn starch sprinkled around my door and baseboards to repel invading ants. I've moved on to vacuuming them up now. I just felt kind of silly as I threw spices at the wall, like I should be chanting under my breath or yelling "Out, Damned Ants!" If I can vacuum them up faster than they can procreate I think we're good.