War is a messy business. Lives are disrupted, property is ruined, and even people on the winning side suffer wounds, casualties, and inconveniences.
My war began when they crossed into what was clearly, indubitably, my property. They ate my food, they soiled my carpet, and they hurt my pets. At first, my strikes were defensive. When the stupid ants got in my dishcloth and bit me numerous times while I was washing dishes, however, they had to die.
I set out poison traps and cleaned like an obsessive-compulsive woman–even more than usual–so the ants had access to no food but the poison. The next day, there were noticeably fewer ants, and the day after that, I found them only in squishable numbers.
Today, however, there was a resurgence, so I sprayed their favorite counter with ant-icide. Thoroughly. Four hours later, it still glistens. Now, although I am on the winning side, my ant bites still sting, and I am unable to use half of my kitchen.
This inconvenience is incomparably better than ants swarming my kitchen sink. This is my house; enter uninvited at your own peril.