“This is why nerds shouldn’t go outside.” –Louis
As my Facebook feed over the past couple years has attested, I have a bit of a contentious relationship with yard work. Now, I have a new reason to fear and loathe it. The toilet ants may have finally retreated for the season, but they’ve called in reinforcements, and the reinforcements are fighting dirty.
These ants are massive–like the black beans on the burrito of your nightmares. Their goal is conquest, and they have decided to forge the nexus of their empire in my yard.
They have named me their mortal enemy.
These ants are a well-oiled war machine, and as any good tactician will tell you, one must fortify a newly-overtaken position before charging further into enemy territory. The ants have two such fortifications: mounds of dirt about a foot across and four to five inches high. This reconnaissance came to me via the controversial tactic of accidentally running them both over with my lawn mower. The ants had been clever enough to allow a sparse covering of grass to grow up through the mounds themselves, as camouflage.
They did not react well to having the top halves of their buildings shaved off. Even as the lawn mower and I moved on, I could see them scrambling randomly, panicked, around the newly exposed tunnels, as if a dragon had just launched a fireball at their village or something. This was only a diversion; these ants are the family Formicidae equivalent of Sparta. They tracked me down across the lawn and climbed up the inside of my pants to bite my legs.
Seriously, could someone please tell Hank Pym that whatever I did, I’m sorry?
Laura Writes 
Drown them with the hose!
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