Is there a limit to the number if creepy crawlies that DON’T live in my Mum’s house?

It looks like Bath’s Annual Flying Ant Day occurred yesterday.

My mum – now infamous for renting her home and ear canal out to spiders – sent me this photo…

This is her backdoor. As you can see, it contains a hediously large ants’ nest.

Unsurprisingly, many of the horrid things took it upon themselves to abandon their home and enter her house!

You could say that by making this move, the ants had literally flown the nest, where they had once been forced to work 24/7, in conditions comparable* to that of a Sports Direct warehouse.

Admittedly, an ant’s boss is only a cannibalistic Queen, constantly having sex with her workers and crapping out eggs**. Sports Direct employees have Mike Ashley to answer to.

* LEGAL (well, to stop me getting sued):
“comparable” by the fact that I am sure if you were to compare a Sports Direct warehouse to an ants’ nest, no similarities would be found.

Although what do I know? An independent investigation into the number of similarities between the two places of work, is most likely yet to be carried out.

** that fascinating fact about the role of the Queen ant, was definitely not taken word-for-word from David Attenborough’s latest book.

Anyway, getting back to the stray ants entering my mother’s home…

Her house poses several risks, including being stepped on by a massive shoe, or one of the resident spiders eating you alive… and they’re just the dangers to humans!

On a serious note, I have warned my mum that having a large ant colony beneath your house is not good news, especially if they have started to enter the property.

Hopefully pest control can offer a solution, otherwise her pet spiders will have a big job on their hands – or should that be legs?

Apparently cockroaches can survive a blast from an atomic bomb, but can they avoid death from a smoking-related illness?

With the recent hot weather, Europe has been experiencing, comes bugs. Lots and lots of bugs, in the form of ants. Ants which crawl under the front door and take over the house.

Claire discovered this the hard way, when she got up on Saturday morning, to see the floor at the foot of the stairs and inside our front room, crawling with black ants.

I was still in bed at the time, but I heard the scream, followed by the use of some blue language.

Luckily, the spider spray, which had served me so well, in my old flat over a decade ago, had not been banned under health and safety laws, and is still being manufactured. In fact, we still had some of the original can left, which I had once used in battle with many a house spider.

Claire used what poison was left in the can on the ants, as well as sucking the wretched creatures up the pipe of our Dyson.

I am sorry if this barbaric-sounding act offends Ricky Gervais and other pro-animal rights activists, but Claire and I had no choice.

Besides which, they’re ants. I like the concept of ‘every life is equal’, but is it really? Is a single ant as important as a snow leopard? Would people mourn a dead wasp in the same they would a beautiful African elephant?

I understand that snow leopards and elephants are endangered species, but surely you get my point? I blame the movie Honey I Shrunk The Kids. I was a tad too young at the time to see this in the cinema, instead made do with receiving a copy on VHS, as a generous birthday present, from a school friend.

In the film, a group of children, find themselves shrunk (sorry if I just revealed a spoiler). They end up in the garden and befriend an ant. The ant is later murdered in a brutal manner – in my opinion, far too strong for the U age-rating the movie carries; but because it is Disney, there’s no way it can possibly a PG. If you think I’m being sceptical, think about Mufasa’s death in The Lion King – also U.

Anyway, the ant’s demise is all apparently very sad and resulted in grown adults crying in the cinema. Crying in public… over an ant. Mind you, this was the 1980s – I’d cry too, if I was of an age to realise what Maggie Thatcher was up to.

The point I am trying to make (badly), is killing some creatures, like ants, when absolutely necessary, is not as bad as killing a white rhino… I think.

I would be generally interested to hear what these super animal lovers would do, should they discover an army of ants taking over their living room.

Claire and I are vegetarian and are extremely anti-hunting, as well as pro animal-welfare; so how to deal with not-so-nice creepy crawlies poses something of a moral dilemma for me. I know some people ask “what would Jesus do?”, when making important life decisions. When it comes to dealing with any future ant or spider infestations, perhaps I should ponder “what would Ricky do?”. Looking at the comedian’s Twitter feed, I can well imagine that he would tweet about it, before calling a random troll a ‘C U Next Tuesday’.

By the time I made it downstairs, the crisis was over and all the ants were gone.

It was important we avoided a repeat of the ant drama this morning – especially with Claire going to work, leaving Roman and I home alone. If I was of no help in dealing with the ants yesterday, Roman would be even less use, had I required him to come to my aid!

Therefore, before bed last night, Claire used bug spray on the gap by the front door and electricity meter cupboard – where we assume the ants came from.

What we had made was, in effect, a wall of toxic poison – something I am sure Donald Trump would love to build around the Mexico border. Maybe or maybe not with the toxic poison.

Trump has said he will make Mexico pay for his wall to be built. I don’t think I will be able to charge her majesty, The Queen Ant for a new can of Raid insect killer, but would imagine I stand as good a chance as old Don has of getting a penny out of Andrés Manuel López Obrador (the president of Mexico).

What awaited Claire, upon going downstairs this morning, was a different kind of horror. Instead of lots of scurrying ants, was lots of dead ants… and spiders, and woodlice.

Claire described the devastation to me, by shouting up the stairs, as I was still in bed – be aware, this was at 6am! It sounded like a scene taken straight out of the recent TV series, Chernobyl

The good news is that we have no more ants. The bad news, my wife and I are wanted by The Court of Ants and Beetles, for the use of nuclear weapons.