My mistake

The ants have found my kitchen. Fortunately, I’ve kept it very clean (anticipating such an invasion), so I’ve only encountered scouts so far. I catch them, bring them over to the little corner of my bathroom and introduce them to Anthony.

“Thanks,” he says.

I watch him spin little webs around them, amazed at his skill. Then, I notice something else in his web. Is that a crumb? No, I don’t eat in the bathroom. What is…

Oh. Wait. “Anthony? Is that an… egg sack?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Should I be calling you ‘Anthony,'” I ask, “or ‘Anthonia’?”

“Either one is fine.”

“Okay.” I leave him — I mean, her alone.

“Need more ants,” she tells me. “They’ll be hungry when they wake up.”

“Right,” I say. “Just what I need, another woman in my life.”

“What other women do you have in your life right now?” I hear from the bathroom.

That stops me. I turn back. “Well… none, I guess. Not really. A couple of friends, really.”

“Then watch your tongue,” she says. “You sleep. And you aren’t so big, you know.”

“My mistake,” I say, backing off.

“I’m naming the oldest one after you,” she says with a little smile. “So don’t make me have to feed you to him.”