Ok. It's 5:30 in the morning and I was just awoken, in my own bed, covered with biting ants. I think I was bitten on my freaking eyelid, for God's sake...
For some reason only beknownst to the ants, there was a mass migration from under the house by the back patio to parts north. Millions and millions of ants covered the patio.
Poor little Molly was standing by the back door waiting to get in, covered herself with ants, and then jumped into bed with me (thanks, Jake!). When I finally awoke from a deep sleep, itching and crushing ant bodies, screeching "WTF?!?", my oh so sweet husband calmly announced: "they're ants, and Molly's covered with them" (and now, so are you).
While I escaped with only a handfull of bites, Molly writhed and howled for a good 10 minutes.
Now I'm fully awake, 2 hours earlier than intended, having swept a gagillion ants to their oblivion off the patio while nursing my swollen and misshapen eyelid. I'm starting to look like a freak, and it's sure to be another interesting day in the country.
An illustration of me in bed, thanks to Natalie Dee:
UPDATE: Last night, as Jake was getting into bed, he stepped in a large puddle of pee with his socks on. Thanks, Molly, you rock! It's not exactly the ant bite to the scrotum I was hoping for, but it was a nice, unexpected surprise.