The Ants Go Marching 100 by 100

Strength in numbers, that’s what they say. It’s me against one thousand tiny ants, and they’re clearly winning, because it’s 2 in the morning and I’m sitting amidst them on the bed, writing about how they’re bothering me, when I should be sleeping. It’s an army and they have launched a surprise attack.

I’m staying at a friend’s house on the way to another friend’s house, because I left my site this morning but won’t reach my destination until tomorrow. She arranged a nice large mattress with a sheet on the floor for me, but unfortunately, it’s ant season, and ants don’t respect personal space.

They’re like mini chocolate chips – because they’re small, so many more of them can fit in a given area. They started in one corner of the bed, so I swept them off and moved to the other corner, but they brought back-ups and are now swarming half the bed and have surrounded the other side. I’m curled up on the only unoccupied space, but they keep finding me. One just crawled across the paper I’m writing on. Two are actually inside the lantern, crawling around between the small lightbulbs and the plastic covering, making strange shadows on my notebook. How did they find their way into the lantern? I have no idea, but those two are now trapped, I just have to figure out how to deal with the other nine hundred ninety nine.

Instead of valiantly defending myself, I will burst into song:

The ants go marching one by one, porra, porra*

The ants go marching one by one, porra, porra

The ants go marching one by one, they wake me up, they think it’s fun

And they all go marching in

From outside

To get out

Of the rain

The ants go marching two by two, porra, porra*

The ants go marching two by two, porra, porra

The ants go marching two by two, and now I don’t know what to do

And they all go marching in

To the house

To get out

Of the rain

The ants go marching three by three, porra, porra*

The ants go marching three by three, porra, porra

The ants go marching three by three, oh why won’t they just let me be

And they all go marching up

On the bed

To get out

Of the rain

The ants go marching four by four, porra, porra*

The ants go marching four by four, porra, porra

The ants go marching four by four, they just keep coming, more and more

And they all go marching in

To the sheets

To get out

Of the rain

The ants go marching five by five, porra, porra*

The ants go marching five by five, porra, porra

The ants go marching five by five, you squish one and it’s still alive

And they all go marching in

To my hair

To get out

Of the rain

The ants go marching six by six, porra, porra*

The ants go marching six by six, porra, porra

The ants go marching six by six, their pincers feel like little pricks

And they all go marching a-

Cross the floor

To get out

Of the rain

The ants go marching seven by seven, porra, porra*

The ants go marching seven by seven, porra, porra

The ants go marching seven by seven, I want to sleep, it’s 2:11

And they all go marching o-

ver my arms

To get out

Of the rain

The ants go marching eight by eight, porra, porra*

The ants go marching eight by eight, porra, porra

The ants go marching eight by eight, what can I do? Just sit and wait

And they all go marching on

The mattress

To get out

Of the rain

The ants go marching nine by nine, porra, porra*

The ants go marching nine by nine, porra, porra

The ants go marching nine by nine, a midnight snack, on me they dine

And they all go marching in

To my clothes

To get out

Of the rain

The ants go marching ten by ten, porra, porra*

The ants go marching ten by ten, porra, porra

The ants go marching ten by ten, swept them away, came back again

And they all go marching in

To my dreams
To get out
Of the rain

*porra = a Mozambican-Portuguese interjection meaning "what the heck!" or "shoot!" (to put it kindly)