jes hears yelp from front hall sometime around six in the morning. (jes is not normally movin about at six in the morning.) she walks groggily into the front hall where husband has laid out his uniform so as not to disturb jes, who, i may emphasize, is not usually awake at six in the morning. jes says, “what? are there fire ants in your underwear?”
husband mumbles. jes flicks on light. the pile of camouflage is covered in fire ants. husband has bites all up his arm. jes spends next hour vacuuming up fire ants. then she pours boiling water on their lair just outside the front door. repeatedly. sweating and pushing her hair out of her face.
jes calls and makes an appointment with pest control. she doesn’t even care how much they’re going to charge.
end scene.
Love the play. I want to see the whole thing.
Also, I like your cleaning style.
Well, that might have seemed like a flippant comment under other circumstances…
i HATE fire ants.
and being woken up before i’m ready.
I think I might have created a few new four-letter words if I was in his place. Poor guy.
How did Jes know what the problem was at 6 am when she just woke up? Way to go lady, I think that deserves a nap today
Fire ants are the devil. Pest control is totally worth it. And your poor husband. It takes weeks for those awful bites to go away. Tell him not to pop them when they start to look like zits. Bad idea. Trust me.
Horrifying.
I’m sorry! I accidentally stepped in a hill of fire ants a couple of months ago. Not fun!
YIKES! Poor Joe. Poor Jessie.
borax and sugar. mix together. feed to the nasty little devils. curse baltimore. texas i mean, texas…