Call Me ... Maybe?

Saturday morning dawned dripping and misty. I tumbled out of bed and stumbled to the kitchen. Today I had to bake a breakfast treat before a going-away party for a friend. I pulled out tubs of flour and sugar and set to work measuring and kneading. Soon I stood up and brushed stray hairs from my face after closing the oven on my soon-to-be masterpiece. It was a good morning.

Then the phone rang. I fumbled on the shelf above the fridge to grab it and pulled it to my ear.

“Hello?”

Funny, there was a strange tickling feeling on my arm. The person on the other end of the line started talking but another tickling feeling on my neck and arm distracted me. I shook my head thinking I was just being paranoid.

“Uh huh.” I agreed distractedly to the voice on the phone. There it was again. This time I couldn’t control my paranoia. I had to look. I pulled the phone away from my face and gaped at it in abject horror. Swarming out of the buttons, battery compartment and every orifice of the phone were an army of tiny ants.

“Hold on!” I yelled to my friend on the phone, not willing to hold the phone any closer to my body. I scanned my house frantically for a way to contain the ants until I could think of a solution to my problem. I found the speaker button and punched it scooping a bowl and cup from my cupboards as I did. I flipped the cup upside down in the bowl and filled the bowl with water.  Then, I tipped the phone on its side and balanced it on the cup. The ants were trapped, at least momentarily. I ran my whole arm under the sink as I got off the phone with my friend, trying to free myself from the tiny attackers who obstinately clung to me. I was itching all over, I ran to my bathroom and threw myself under the shower.

A few minutes later I emerged, ready to wage war against my diminutive enemies. Out came the bug spray and after several attempts I at least could hold the phone for a few seconds without being swarmed. I pried open the back only to find a nest under the battery pack.

 Over the next day or so, I tried to starve the ants out on their little island in the bowl. But they were too clever. They began building a new nest in the screen of the phone, but to no avail. Now things were desperate. There was only one thing left to do. I snatched up the phone and threw it in a Ziploc bag, cramming it into the freezer. The next day I saw I had won. Not a twitch of movement came from the phone when I pulled it out of the chilly air. One week, and a trip to the telephone repair guys later I had my phone back, now safely stored away from my crawling friends who I hope will forget to call me again.