Last week, we had a pest control company come out and spray our house and yard, because we have had a ton of ants this summer. We thought it had worked, until this morning…

I was down here in my office, working hard like a good boy, when Lindsay came down. “Daddy, there’s, um, a lot of ants, so you need to come see them.” I was in the middle of writing a work-related email, so I told Lindsay I would be up in a few minutes. She decided to wait with me. About 20 seconds later, she said, “Daddy, let’s go.” I said, “Sweetheart, I am still writing my email, I will be ready in a minute.” Her response was priceless:

“But daddy, there’s a lot of freaking ants, and Mommy is freaking out!”

I’m assuming she just put “freaking” in the wrong place at first, because I’ve never heard her use it adjectivally before. Either that, or she’s been listening to me too much. But in her defense, there WERE a lot of freaking ants (although, curiously, Bethy was NOT actually freaking out).