By Rose Roots Gardener Erin Newton
So there I was, soaking my plot so I could, for once, pull my carrots out whole, when I heard screaming. I knew it was my child, but I figured if he was maimed enough, he would come running. He and his brother, had, after all been sparring all afternoon.
But his wailing turned into shrill shrieking like I'd never heard before, and his little brother started yelling and wailing too, in solidarity, it sounded like. Another gardener got to them first, where the 5 year old was standing in the path in a giant pile of fire ants that had trailed their way up to his neck and then started biting. He stood there, statuesque, with a perfect likeness of "The Scream" painting on his face.
I started ripping his clothes off, while another gardener grabbed my 2 year old who was creeping dangerously close to the curious pile of angry aggressors. The first heroic gardener who had been the first responder to the scene ran and got a hose, and that is how my first born ended up getting water boarded in the nude surrounded by a community of his favorite community gardeners. Life lesson learned: If you're standing in a pile of red ants and they start biting you, get off the pile!
