You know the photos you take of things like squirrels and frogs and interesting rocks? And you look at the prints later and no one can see the squirrel or frog or rock? And you’re all, “No really, the squirrel is that fuzzy gray blob in the corner”?
Or maybe that’s just me.
Along those lines, here’s a photo of my ants, successfully acclimated into the wild:
Or because he’s an ant.
I was sad yesterday because I couldn’t find them. I even canceled Ant Day of Animal Camp.
So imagine my joy when I saw those guys this morning. This afternoon when I stopped by, I saw three of them. Imagine my joy!
See what I mean about the crazy? As though my ridiculous joy at the survival of my ants weren’t enough, how long do you think it will be before one of the neighbors asks why I keep taking photos of dirt?
And what do you think they’ll say when I report that I’m tracking 20 specific ants? Because clearly, these are the same ants. How, you may ask, can I be sure that of all the ants in the world, of all the ants in my yard, of all the ants in the four square feet to the right side of my driveway, how can I KNOW these are the same ants?
Because, I’ll answer, once you’ve
loved, um, taken good care of, um, gotten to know, um, tortured someone (or some-ant), you remember them.
And because the truly insane don’t doubt their sanity.
(So that means I’m totally sane, right? Right? RIGHT?!)
Hey, remember when I promised not to post about ants every five minutes?
(We get obsessive around my house. This is the last time. I (semi) promise.)