Actually ate ants once. ( unknowingly) Live ants they were. This was not a good experience–not a good experience at all. The tiny varmints had invaded my box of raisin bran and were hiding by clinging to the raisins as I poured a bowl and added milk.
The first bite went down without much thought. At the second bite, it began to taste strange; a queer bitterness… a metallic taste that made no sense in my usual sweet morning treat. Something was horribly wrong. I would complain to the company. (name deleted to protect the manufacturer) (other adjectives to protect your ears, dear reader)
My bowl of cereal at first looked normal. I looked closely. At first I didn’t see anything unusual. A prickliness began on the back of my neck. I gave it a stir. The back of my throat began to spasm as I then became aware of the problem.
Ants were clinging to the raisins. Some of them had been swept off their raisin life supporters and were floating around in their luxurious milk bath calling to their friends to come on in. Most were smart and clung to their little life-rafts, while some were diving to their deaths or others were attempting to get to the side of the bowl. Ants do not swim too well. Do they not know this?
Alas there were many casualties.
And did the smart ones live? Did I have pity on them and think they deserved a better fate?
I wish I could report that compassion then overwhelmed me and that a few lives were saved. That would be a better ending perhaps than the one I gave them.
But for no other reason than the hatred we feel for these tiny creatures God put here on our planet, they were destroyed. This makes me a little sad and not at all proud. It’s just ants I tell myself. It shouldn’t bother me very much. But it does.