First off, please stop.
Please, for the love of God, stop.
Sorry, maybe that was a little too direct, let me start again.
To the man who keeps mailing me dead ants, could you please stop? I really, really, really do not want anymore dead ants. Not to imply that at any point I ever wanted to be in possession of dead ants. People say that you can never have to much of a good thing, but there's really nothing good at all about a pile of dead ants.
A pile of dead ants that, let me remind you, you've had delivered to my residence every single day for over three months now.
When I received your first "gift" of dead ants, I figured there'd been some kind of postal error. I thought there must be some increasingly heartbroken child out there with a freshly bought ant farm, waiting for ants that would never arrive.
But on the next day, after finding a second envelope of dead ants shoved into my mail slot, I knew this wasn't the case.
From here I came up with my second hypothesis. I thought that perhaps someone was playing a prank on me, albeit an incredibly morbid one. Maybe that was all it was, a weird harmless (to me, not the ants, obviously) goof being perpetrated on my person.
I tried to reassure my wife using this line of thought, but I could tell that even then, she didn't really believe me.
It only took a couple more envelopes crammed full of deceased ants being delivered to our doorstep for her to finally leave me. Her last words to me were something about me "caring more about the dead ants than her" and something about her "being tired of competing with dead ants".
I tried telling her that none of what she was saying made any sense, but I think she was just looking for a reason to leave at that point. I guess I can't blame her, our wedding vows mentioned sticking together "for sick and for poor...", but failed to mention anything about dead ants.
A few days ago I worked up the courage to finally confront our my mailman. I asked him if he could just stop delivering these packages of dead ants to our my home, if maybe they could just get "lost in the mail" or something. He gave me a polite, courteous smile and then told me I had to go back inside as it's illegal to talk or interact with postal workers in any way shape or form. As long as someone kept sending me these dead ants, he'd keep delivering them.
You may be wondering if I've kept all the dead ants you've sent me since this all began. In short, yes, I have kept the dead ants.
Why did I keep them? It's simple. I kept them because it's rude to throw away gifts that have been given to you, even if you don't particularly care for them.
My wife didn't understand this line of reasoning either, but I guess that doesn't matter since she's gone now.
I've also fortunately been able to find uses for these dead ants, as burdensome as they may be. I've used them as door-stops, paper weights, and countless other wonderful uses. I learned that ants are an excellent source of protein, so I've begun grinding them up and adding them to my morning fruit smoothies. In fact, really the only thing that's kept me going during this dark period is finding new ways to utilize the ever growing amount of dead ants I'm in possession of.
I feel that I'm beginning to ramble, so I suppose I should wrap up my correspondence with you.
In short, please stop sending dead ants to my house.
Or don't, I guess it doesn't matter at this point.
Nothing matters at this point.
