Archives July 2026

This is the truth, because I saw it on the Internet. There is a growing demand for ANT PETS. Not just any old ant (people get so snobby about pets), but these giant ants from Africa, called African Harvester Ants. They cost up to $220 each! Just think of this: what if somehow these ants become popular pets? Then a couple escaped? They would REPRODUCE. And we would be in so much trouble over here, and let’s face it, we have way more trouble than we can handle without ants, for God’s sake.

Apparently, these ants have interesting, complex behavior, and they are “low maintenance.” Look, if maintenance is your problem, get a cat. All you have to do is change the litter box and feed them. Since you have to feed any pet, it boils down to the litter box, which is annoying, but have you heard the expression “Do you have ants in your pants?” Cats don’t get in pants, unless they are just out of the dryer and laying on your bed.

And the descriptor GIANT. Look at that photo above. It is an actual (again, according to the Internet)  image of one of these ants. Do you think it looks cute, or something you might want walking up your arm? Or God forbid, your leg? (see pants reference, above)

I do know that when I was growing up, ant farms were kind of popular. I never had one, because my mom was extremely intelligent, and she also had an imagination, in which her kid’s ant farm got knocked off the dresser, and hundreds of of the damn insects swarmed all over the house, ending up in the pantry, munching on Cheerios, getting in the flour, crawling into the Ritz crackers, and having children, until the carpeting in the living room looked as if it was moving, there were so  many horrible ants all over it.

I carry that image as well, like any sane mother.  I think one can still get ant farms on Amazon, but they just can’t be in demand. And if you wanted a farm for these giant ones, my Lord, it would have to be big enough for them, so where would you put it–on the dining room table?

What kind of person would want an ant as a pet? Here is what I think: it would have to be a man. No woman, unless she is an entomologist, would want a huge ant.

So  let’s call this ant lover guy “Harold.” Harold is in his early thirties. He has never had a girlfriend, but he imagines being married to Billie Eilish. He had a turtle in fifth grade, but it gave everyone in his family Salomonella, so his mother flushed it, and Harold mourned for a whole year. Harold plays mahjong online, because he only has two friends, and they hate the game. Harold’s favorite food is cottage cheese. His favorite TV show is Love, Death, and Robots. Harold stays inside; he is so pale that people passing him on the street wonder if he is an albino. Harold has been a bug fan all his life, but could never indulge in his passion until now, because when his mother died last month,  Harold inherited the house. Now Harold is FREE to indulge in whatever he wants to do, which right now is THE ANT.

Harold would name his new, great big ant “Bertha,” despite not knowing its gender. Harold would live in harmony with Bertha until, like in all of these sorts of situations, Bertha would grow bigger and bigger, and begin biting off bits of Harold, until you know what.

Forget the ant, people. If you need companionship, look at these options, below:

They might bite you, but as for eating you alive? Of course not, Harold.

Who taught you how to read a map? Nobody taught me. This is why I am never the navigator on a road trip, or why I never go anywhere I have not been before, because I have no idea how to get there. My husband telling me to “Go north on I 75 and take the east so and so exit” might as well be in another language.

So when Siri came along, my life changed. I can go to a dermatologist in Cincinnati if I want to, because Siri will gently tell me how to get there, and if I make a mistake, she merely shrugs and reroutes me.

My husband never uses Siri. He puts a map in his lap and glances down frequently, despite the traffic. This makes me nervous and puts us in slight danger, but there is nothing I can do about it, because he doesn’t use Siri. Why? “BECAUSE IT DOESN’T WORK IN MY CAR.”

“But it isn’t IN your car. It’s on your phone.”

“Ok, then. The next time I will show you that this woman never answers when I call her, and in my phone or not, it doesn’t work. So I use a map. Maps always work.”

“But Siri is built in to your phone. It is on ALL iPhones!”

“Not on mine.”

So the next time we went to the grocery store, I wanted a demo of the nonworking, built-in app on his and every other iPhone on the planet. “So ask for directions,” I said.

“Ok, then. Here goes, he said. “Hey, Sheila. Directions to the Kroger.”

Naturally, there was no answer.

“See? It doesn’t work. I told you!” He gave me a smug look.

“Two things: First, her name is SIRI. Second, do you know how many Krogers there are on the Eastern Seaboard? Thousands. You have to give her something to GO ON. The one in Kettering, Ohio, or the one in Schenectady, New York, for instance? But really, the main problem you are having is that you have no idea what her name is. You can’t just shout out any name starting with an S.”

I thought back to when we visited our daughter at Christmas. That was frustrating as well, because my husband wanted to give “Alicia” orders, and “Alicia” never complied. He didn’t get it, because whenever my daughter gave her an order, Alexa did just as she was asked.

I don’t want Alicia or Alexa, because they eavesdrop all the time, and I don’t need them to overhear me wondering about how I look in Capri pants, and snitching to Google, who then sends me all sorts of ads for Spanx and control-top panty hose.

Technology has gotten invasive…but only if you remember its name.