The ants go marching ...

Just as the Sacrament was beginning to be passed at church, Jane reached for our mangy church bag that we just throw on the floor of the garage (usually sometime Monday afternoon) and then chuck back into the van as we streak off to church (by streak I mean in the "moving fast" sense and not the "running naked by horrified observers" sense). So anyway, as she reached for the bag she withdrew quickly exclaiming something about ants. So I look over at the bag, which was positioned between myself and Sister Brown (we were sharing a pew with her family). As I noticed an ant crawling from the church bag I thought to myself how ridiculous it is to be scared of a little bitty ant. Then as about 100 of his best friends closely followed behind him, I thought how ridiculous it was to be the family that brings ants to church with them. As Sister Brown looked respectfully away, pretending not to notice the biology teeming from our bag, I puzzled over the best way to handle the situation. Do I run screaming from the sacrament service as ants drain down the upper half of my body? I opted to hold out until the sacrament was finished being passed and then Jessica suggested that I take Seth and the ants (both really annoying at church) and make a dignified exit giving the impression that it was Seth's fault that I needed to leave, rather than because the white trash Romneys had to dispose of the ant colony that had begun to establish itself in their Sunday church bag. It was actually kind of a nice way to break up the meeting, and I'll tell you that Seth really enjoyed being on the outside for a little while too. So perhaps the ants were God's way of helping the Romneys get a new perspective on Sacrament meeting.