So, I ate ants yesterday. Not on purpose. They had colonized the slice of pizza I left on the counter for approximately 7 and a half minutes. I attribute the strange metallicky/cardboardy taste of that first bite to the ants. We’ve had this ant problem since we moved here. Why I didn’t look before I bit I don’t know. When I did look, there were 6 ants per sqare inch, give or take.

I am very proud of the fact that I did not freak out in front of the kids. I chewed up the bite, swallowed it, and then washed it all down with about 4 glasses of water. I swished the water around in my mouth, trying to make sure I rinsed out any lingering legs or abdomens or thoraxes out of my teeth. I was very methodical and calm. When I wiped my mouth, I only came away with one ant on the napkin, which means I swallowed a bunch. I feel very guilty.

The irony of this is that I have always told my husband that I can’t do any type of reality tv show that would force me to eat anything out of the ordinary. No Fear Factor, no Survivor, no Amazing Race. I would do anything on those shows, including shave my head and swim with sharks, as long as I didn’t have to eat bugs, cooked or not. Although we love The Amazing Race and would love to be on that show, the bug-thing has kept me from applying.

Now I know for sure that I made the right decision.