It's more that I'm farsighted and can't see ants (not even with glasses, those ant nerds) unless they're the big fuckers. I have sat in so many ant trails because I could not see them.

One summer, during the week that you stay home alone when you're 14 as a rite of passage to prove that you won't die when left to your own devices, the ants attacked a cupboard that had no food (I thought). The cupboard with all the bowls and plates and cups and apparently ants that week. Well okay first they attacked the pantry. Then they attacked the bowls. Then they went after the sink and cleaning supplies. In retrospect I would not be surprised if my shitass brother mixed some bouillon in with the bleach.
I ended up having to clean the kitchen from top to bottom four days in a row. Including the fridge at one point, I was not leaving anything to chance after attack number 3. I wasn't going to cook and eat anything from a freshly poisoned kitchen, so I kept getting pizza instead of getting to try new recipes like I wanted.
I'm not sure it would be heaven without the opportunity to extinct me some ants. And then do it three or four more times to the same, reincarnated ants. I think my part of heaven is the baggage closet.