Sharing is Caring

February 7, 2008

When I learned I had to share my room, I was appalled.

Frustration and anger convulsed within me and I spent hours trying to devise different plans to get my unwelcome roommates to leave.

But what did I expect? Chocolate mints on my pillow and fresh towels next to the tin cup in the banya?

Don’t be such a priss, I told myself.

So my little six-legged and eight-legged friends and I are slowly learning to share the living space. Sometimes they multiply and I get angry, sometimes I spend way too much time fighting them and sometimes I just leave them the heck alone because I’ve stopped caring.

“Do you have ants in America?” a relative asked me yesterday.

“Oh yes, of course we do,” I replied.

“But inside the house?”

“Well…we have this thing called Raid…”

“Ahhhhh” said everyone in the room. Another clever American invention.

I don’t really care that much anymore, but it’s still fun to flick the fat ones across the room and watch them struggle trying to get themselves back on their feet.

Hey, when entertainment is minimal, ant-flicking does have it’s glory.