Ants In My ... Hands ???

Just when I thought I'd seen it all, my son still manages to astonish me, and not necessarily in a good way. New material for the blog perhaps, but it doesn't do much for my overall sanity.

So here is me yesterday evening, in the kitchen cooking dinner. If I'm to be absolutely truthful, I was actually reheating a meal that Rob had cooked previously and frozen, but there is no reason to get bogged down with details. Anyway, picture me at the stove, when I notice out of the corner of my eye, Grady quietly making his way to the back door, when he is supposed to be doing his homework. "Where are you going ?" I ask, and he tells me he just has to grab something from the clubhouse (aka the playhouse Rob built on stilts a couple of years ago) and that he'll be right back. Sure enough, a few minutes later the back door is flung open, the cats that were waiting to be fed, effectively scatter, and Grady runs through the kitchen yelling "I have ants in my hands".  Convinced there is something wrong with my hearing, I ignore it, close the door (I swear the boy was born in a barn) and get on with helping Sid with her homework. Two minutes later, Grady is back at the door again. "What about your homework ?" I yell after his retreating back. Too late, he doesn't answer me.

I am firmly embroiled in helping Sid with her current event (which I hate), and therefore don't pay any attention to Grady when he returns to the house. That was a big mistake.  When I finally make it back into the kitchen, I see Grady at the counter where I was still trying to prepare dinner, and I notice he has stuff scattered all over the place.  I ask him what he was doing and why all the mess ? "Don't worry mum, I'm just filling my ant farm"  he replies nonchalantly.  "You're doing what? I screech in horror. "I said, I am filling my ant farm" he enunciates his words slowly as if I didn't understand him the first time. I understand alright, there are f***ing ants running helter-skelter all over my damn counter. Why here ? Why now ?  He got the (empty) farm kit for Christmas (what in the hell was I thinking??)  and now out of the blue he decides to catch himself some ants.

Of course this commotion catches Sid's attention and any attempts at homework are forgotten in the scramble to clear the ants off the counter. I'm pretty sure that there was some extra protein in the dinner that night - if you know what I mean. I suppose I should be thankful that it was ants and not worms. I can handle mice, spiders don't bother me, but I hate worms with a passion, ever since my father told me that I used to eat them in the garden when I was a toddler. That of course begs the question, why the hell didn't he stop me ?

Meanwhile at 7:30 this morning Grady was chasing a screaming Lindsay around the house with a huge spider on the end of a long stick.  Honestly, I don't know if that boy is going to end up being a scientific genius or a criminal mastermind.