My son takes his lunch to kindergarten every day. Every night, I make it for him. But, he has two lunch boxes (a tall one and a wide one), so if I’m packing one, I don’t bother looking for the other.

We also have ant issues here at the house. It’s always right before a big birthday party….Erv’s first bithday is next week! Looks like the ants are moving in! Followed by two months of ant smashing in the kitchen, religious counter wiping, calls of “Mom! Ant!” from the living room.

For the last month or so, we’ve had it under control. We hadn’t seen a single one.

This morning, I couldn’t find Henry’s backpack. We look all over the house. It’s supposed to be hanging on the coat rack by the front door.

I know it’s not in the car, because he rode the bus home and we didn’t go anywhere. About five minutes before we need to leave for school, I walk outside. It’s sitting on the ground against the Adirondack chair, right next to the driveway.

I sigh, and bring it inside.

As soon as I unzip it, pull the other lunch box out and put the packed lunchbox in, I see them.

Dozens of them. Crawling up my arm, swarming the tile floor.

Little buggers.

I fly to the front door and toss the whole shebang outside, mom-cursing under my breath. I’m yelling at my son to grab the too-small, never-used play backpack, he’s saying “I’m sorry, Mom” over and over. I’m spraying the floor with all-purpose cleaner. We’re getting in the car, a few minutes too late. I’m silent the whole way, with a soft chorus of “I’m sorry, Mom” from the backseat.

So, heading into Mother’s Day weekend, I’m back in Ant Combat mode.

Happy Mother’s Day, Mom! Here are your ants.