The ants are still marching. Anaya was washing them down the sink in the bathroom yesterday again. "I thought they were your friends," I commented.
"Oh. I forgot."
I saw a whole tribe of them gathered around a silver spoon in the playroom this week. Apparently the kids must have coated it with peanut butter or something and left it out, maybe as a sort of sacrifice to the ant gods. (Maybe it was to atone for the caterpillar that two wide-eyed boys accidentally sent to his eternal rest a few days earlier--but we won't go there.) It looked like the ants were all working together to haul the spoon off to their house. Actually, I thought THIS was their house. They might as well put it away.