I read (and everything I read is true, I'm sure!) that plain old household borax can take care of your ant problem. So I scooted right down to the store (we were out of it in the laundry room) and got me some borax. I used to recognize it by its green box, but now the box is white. By the looks of the box redesign, they wanted to appear more natural and... green. But the box isn't green anymore. I digress.
I sprinkled borax around the areas the ants like to hang out. I even blocked off some of their supply routes. And the ants disappeared. For a day. Now they are back, and they have scooted the powdery borax over so they could have more room to crawl and creep and scurry. They are even tricky enough to make my camera not take nice pictures of them.
They are tiny little things, so frightened by the giant penny that they tried to run under my lovely vintage plastic floor trim. Trent calls them sugar ants, but I know there is no sugar in my bathroom. If there was, I would have eaten it.
Maybe I need to pull out my Wonder Woman arm bands and try something else.