This post is a bit different to my normal ones. It’s an anecdotal childhood story, it’s not like my post on Friendships on Rough Seas this one is less sad, more ANTENTS. This is a rather brilliant pun but will only make sense wheny you’ve read this. So if that hasn’t got you hooked I don’t know what will.
I was in primary school, and it was the “Tentathon” which, for some reason, my school thought families camping in the field would be a good way to spend a fews days summer. My dad decided it would be a nice thing for him me and my brother to take part and, at first I was pretty excited, it was my first time being “close to nature”; my first time camping… and my last time.
I was in the tent, obviously otherwise I’d have completely messed up, and it was dark, as is the norm for night time. I was enjoying the experience so far, the quietness and the nature-yness of tenting was pretty nice. I also had my favourite drink, a Blackcurrent Fruit Shoot (the bottles by the way are now SO MUCH SMALLER THAN THEY USED TO BE) and I thought it would be an appropriate time to have some of it.
As it was summer time it was ant season. Ants are black and the tent was black. And ants like sweet things. So I attempted to have some of the drink. I didn’t get the drink in my mouth, I got ants. There were ants on the lid. Which were now running around on my tongue. Obviously as a 7 year old I reacted by screaming. spitting and crying. To be honest I’d have reacted the same way if it happened now.
So now I cannot deal with ants, both the normal and flying kind, and on Friday when 10000 errupted from my back garden (not a euphemism), I very nearly had a breakdown.