Me? In Home Depot?

I looked around wondering what in the world I was doing there.

Home Depot is huge, and I have no idea where they hide everything. Today I want to find a new toilet seat for the downstairs bathroom and some ant spray for the same place.l It’s an annual plague. Ants come in and the pest expert sprays the place–and in-between his visit, I like to help.

Fortunately, people in orange aprons run around rescuing the like of me.

One sent me to the right aisle, where I fortunately met a nice man also searching for a new toilet seat. Problem is there are so many choices, and they all look so alike, it’s hard to decide. We discussed the issue and together chose upper-mid priced seats. (Now I have to find a relative or friend to install it.)

Next I marched, over to the ant killer department. A very elderly but knowledgeable man perched on a seat at the front door wearing his orange apron directed me, saying, “You don’t want spray,that just kills ’em and you have to clean ’em up. Get bait . They eat it get it on their feet and go back out to the Queen and kill everyone in the anthill.”

Sounded good to me, so I went in search of bait. I found one and while standing in checkout, a lovely man standing behind me said, “You don’t want to buy that ant bait. It doesn’t work. Come back with me and I’ll show you the one brand that does work. I tried them all.” We retreated to the ant bait department (about a block by my measure) and he returned the package I had and gave me a box of Terro Liquid Ant Bait with six little packs inside. You just snap off the tab of one, and put it in the corner, label side up, and the liquid drips out for a month or so.

I couldn’t thank him enough, adding, “You know, I never had to do this while my husband was alive. He shopped in Home Depot. I belong in Macy’s. ###