“Death is everywhere. Â There are ants in my cereal, for a start. Â Reminding us, we may have a stomachache tonight.
Death is everywhere. Â There are ants in my bottle, already drown. Â And I can sense the water finished, by tonight.”
– An unknown artist’s adaptation of a well known song.
I don’t get it.  My water is as plain as it should be.  Yet, there are ants drowning inside my sealed water jar.  At home.  Everyday.  I no longer use drinking mugs that are not white in color.  Because I need to see what I am drinking.  In case if I need to fish the bodies out from the water.  Those floating on top that is.  I suppose I could ignore the extra protein content and drink up.  But ants annoy me.  I love the house lizards and I hate the ants.
I am 1.72m tall.  Let’s say, if I am to be represented as a disc in a two-dimension model, I have an effective area of 2.32m² (assuming that I am walking on all four for reasons that will become obvious later).  Singapore has a land size of 704km².  In effect, Singapore is 300 million times bigger than me.
Using the same model, by my calculation, my home is 100 million times bigger than a typical ant that shares the same address as I do. Â Yet, if I drop a piece of chocolate on my keyboard right here right now, I bet within minutes, the ants will find it, and munch onto it. Â This is mind blowing. Â If someone was to unload a truck full of ice cream at Orchard right now, I doubt I would even know about it. Â Do ants tweet to each other or what?
Not long ago, I have an ant invasion problem with my breakfast. Â Cynthia would prepare cereal for us. Â I often stare at the computer screen while having my first meal of the day. Â Halfway through my breakfast, I would spot black dots floating on top of the milk. Â At first I thought those were pieces of wheat. Â In close examination, those were ant bodies. Â I would pick them up one after another and dump their bodies onto the kitchen sink. Â A dozen, or more.
Cynthia and I have brainstormed on our situation. Â And we have come up with the following possibilities.
- The ants got into the cereal at the factory and become part of cereal.
- The ants got into the cereal during transportation. Â Possibly inside a container on a ship. Â Because ants swim.
- The ants got into the cereal at the supermarket. Â In that case, we have some complaint letters to write.
- The ants got into the cereal at my home. Â We have since locked our beloved cereal inside an airtight container stored in the fridge. Â It did not seem to work.
- The ants find a way into our fridge, and somehow survive a near zero temperature. Â This is evolution. Â Ice age ants.
- The ants got into the cereal while Cynthia was preparing breakfast.  Cynthia protested that this is preposterous.  Because how can a dozen of ant commandos get into a bowl full of cereals while she fetches milk and makes coffee?  Two minutes top, she said.
- The ants were already swimming inside the milk carton!
- Edit: Upon reading this post, Cynthia asked, “How about ants that were already hiding in our cereal bowls before breakfast was prepared?” Â I guess since this is brainstorming, there are no right or wrong answers. Â Could ants be that smart?
Just like that, our mysterious cereal problem has mysteriously disappeared. Â Now leaving us to deal with a new problem: Ants inside our sealed water jar. Â Were they inside the kettle and died a horrible death? Â Or they were merely drown inside the jar?
I have no clue.
“Death is everywhere. Â The more I look, the ants I see. Â The more I feel a sense of mystery, tonight.”
– An unknown artist’s attempt to finish the song.