Usually, the phrase “ants in your pants” refers to being anxious or excited about something that you are waiting for. And while this certainly applies to me, because I have four more weeks in Spain until I go home to the States, I want to use this phrase in an entirely different context. The literal one. You see, Friday night after a shower, as I was getting ready to meet some friends for dinner, I selected one pair of jeans from my “worn once already” pile and pulled them on. As I browsed the closet for a shirt, I felt some prickling sensation behind my left knee. I started scratching, didn’t think anything about it, and finished dressing. The spot continued to itch, so I pulled my pants back down to see if I could find what was making me itch. I saw nothing, shrugged, and forgot about it. Five minutes later, the itch was back, only now it was a few inches higher. “WTF?” I thought (“F” standing for “fire engine”, of course). Off came the pants once again, but I still couldn’t find anything foreign in that area of the pant leg. Well, I really wanted to wear those pants, because they were the ones that make my butt look good. So I scratched a bit more, pulled them back on, and headed out for a long and wonderful night of pizza, trivia, and dancing.
Fast forward to this morning, Sunday morning. I feel a bit itchy in the same leg region again, and without thinking, I reach down and scratch. And find about 20 raised bumps all over the back of my thigh. Ant bites. Gotta be. We have had ant problems for a few weeks now, and I have learned to be careful about what food products I leave lying around. But how they got into my pants (nicely folded in the closet), I will never know. After applying copious amounts of cortisone, I hope my leg will stop itching soon. Until then, I am at war. Ants, beware. I have a can of bug spray and vengeance will be mine…
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