Florida red ants

When I was about 8 or 9, my family went to Florida on vacation. Apparently we went there a couple of times, but I only really remember this one time. My parents own a timeshare, so when we go on vacation, we sometimes get to stay in really awesome resorts. This time, we were in a huge, sprawling monstrosity of amazingness that was complete with several indoor and outdoor pools, hottubs, tennis courts, raquetball courts, arcades, and restaurants. The only problem with this place, honestly, was that it was in Florida, because I hate humidity.

It just so happened that staying in the area was a former tennis star, and I had a very keen interest in tennis (I went through two seasons or so of private and group lessons). So my parents decided to be awesome and got me lessons with this lady while the rest of my family just kind of chilled at the courts. Rather, they didn't chill, because it was so hot. But anyways.

My younger sisters were about 5 and 2, or something like that. While I was having my lessons and my parents were sitting in the shade drinking lemonade and water, they were running around the courts, chasing after my stray balls. After about half an hour, they grew tired, like small children usually do, and decided to explore the shade.

One of the corners of the court was torn up a little, like someone with a mini drill had been given a little too much free time. And in this corner, under the torn up green and red surface, was a colony of ants. Now, Bri and Steph knew what ants were. Who doesn't? But they had never actually had the chance to understand how many different types of ants there are. So these ants were cool and special, because, unlike all the boring ants from Colorado, which were black, these ants were red. Ooooooo....pretty!

My sisters started playing with the ants, giving them love in the best ways they could think of. And then Bri got a simply fantastic idea: Mommy and Daddy just had to meet their new friends! She reached down and tried to pick up one of the pretty new pets, but he ran away from under her fingers. The next time, she just let one of the ants come to her. He crawled up her fingernail, and moseyed up to her knuckle.

Bri lifted her hand close to her nose, so she could look at him, and started to stand up. I was on the other end of the court, listening to how to properly extend my arm during a serve. And then there was screaming. Oh, how she screamed.

Bri flung her hand in the air and ran towards my parents; a very confused Steph screamed once or twice and then ran after her. Waving her chubby little finger in the air, Bri realized that her little red friend was still hanging on for dear life, and she screamed again and started crying. I, however, couldn't help but laugh. And when I laughed, so did Steph, and that just made Bri more sad. For the last days of our vacation, Bri had a mini red welt on the tip of her pointer finger, and every time she looked at it, her big blue eyes would fill up with a crazy amount of tears.