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The Gag Reflex

Last night I helped Ralexwin with chopping up some fallen limbs he'd confiscated from the unused forested area behind our house. It was fairly enjoyable work. Especially since I got to use the axe.

Well, it was fun until Ralexwin tossed over this particularly large branch. After I piled up all the other limbs into the wheel-barrel. I went over to start on the large one--I took one big swing at the log and it snapped in half a little too easily.

Hmm.

I leaned down and picked up one half of it. Or rather leaned down and intended to pick up one half when I noticed a large mass of carpenter ants spilling out of the wood.

Large as in probably a 1/4 cups worth.

It was disgusting!

I screeched.

I gagged.

I leaned against the nearest tree and tried to breath. Saliva filled my mouth. Dry heaves wracked my body.

Ralexwin looked over the fence at me.

"What's your problem?" He asked rather masculinely.

What's my problem!? What's my problem? I'll tell you what my problem is. Bugs! Ants!

I have ant-a-phobia.

I saw this movie once when I was little where they took some guy and tied him up and put him in an ant hill... it wasn't pretty. In Indiana Jones and the Crystal Skull I have to close my eyes when we get to the ant part.

I've been at war with ants for years. When we moved into this house I had an ant issue. I opened up the cupboard and there they were, an army of ants crawling all over my dishes. I screamed. I slammed the cupboard. I yelled for Ralexwin. I called the exterminator.

I can't stand ants.

I can handle diapers, I can handle nasty, horrible diapers that get all over car-seats and blankets and clothes, but I cannot do ants.

There's this book called "West with the Night" by Beryl Markham. It's a very good book but it talks about these little critters you find in Africa that are like super ants with super ant-piles and super snippers. They can take down a horse in one night.


EEEEEEEWWWWW.


So Ralexwin wants to know what my problem is? It's the fact that that log was full of ants! That they came spilling out like water from a faucet. So I told him!

He rolled his eyes and told me to just toss it back. I couldn't. I made him. He rolled those eyes again, but he did it.

I suppose you could say bugs are to women what dirty diapers are to men. DISGUSTING.

And incidentally a few minutes later I turned around to see the Mischievite leaning against that same tree coughing and spitting at the ground. He's such a silly little copy cat.

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