Weekend Freewrite 2-10-18 The Ant Invasion

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The Weekend Freewrite begins with the first sentence, and then is followed my two more prompts I do not look at before writing.

I found this weekend freewrite a challenge, but it turned out cute.

My mother was doing that thing she did. That thing with the rag in the sink. She called it cleaning. I called it not fun. She insisted we clean the house every day. She said that if the house was clean, she could breath easier. The dust would collect on all the counters, and no matter how many time she and I cleaned them off, they would collect more dust.

I was more than happy to help with the vacuuming. I would push the vacuum around the floor gathering all the crumbs from the day before. I would take the hose and get the corners of the house. The place would be spotless when we were done.

But I never wanted to put my hands in that hot soapy water or wring the rag out and clean the surfaces. She would remind me to clean up spills. But if I did spill a bit of Kool-aide on the counter, I would ignore it. If I did, she would remind me that those little spills attracted the ants.

I learned the hard way.

I wasn’t prepared for the army of ants that came by this afternoon. It was as if they had told every ant in the county there was enough Kool-aide to replenish them all. I looked at the trails of ants hoping they would just leave on their own.

The plane was two hours late. As I waited at the airport, all I could think of was the ants on the counter, and how they would still be there when I got home. My mother would be outraged by the sight. I thought to myself, I could kill the ants with some seven dust, and then she would never know, but when I looked under the porch, the bag of seven dust was empty.

I didn’t have the time to deal with them. My mother would have noticed by now. I knew that she came home from the library at three, so she was there now. It was too long of a ride from the airport to the house for me to run back, and now I would be two hours later than I had expected.

I could only imagine what my mother must be saying to herself, as she walks in the back door; following the trails of ants that so rudely invaded the kitchen. I would never hear the end of it. Every single time I would go get a drink from the kitchen, I will be reminded of the one time I didn’t clean up my spill.

I always thought of my cousin Harry a bit weird because of the way he writes with both his left and right hand. When the plane finally landed, Harry came walking out of the terminal with a big smile on his face. I wondered how long he would be staying, since he did not mention in his letter.

We drove home talking about the weather, the moral decline of our country, and the solutions to the ecological disasters around the world. The entire time I was thinking about those ants. Harry had no clue what he was about to walk in on, and I didn’t have the nerve to mention that his Aunt could be upset when we got to the house.

When we got there, the ants had taken over the house. I found my mother outside with a glass of Kool-aide. There was a trail of spilled Kool-aide the whole way around the house, from the backdoor to the front door, out on to the patio, and down the steps to where she sat.

“I came home, and I had seen you invited some ants. I thought, 'Cindy must be having an ant party'. So, I invited more by dripping it through the whole house. Now there are plenty of ants.”

I knew my mother was trying to teach me a lesson, but all I could do was sigh.

I never, ever left a spill on the counter again.

The End. Thanks for reading!

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