Mandibles

Charlie clenched his fists but didn't say anything. He'd seen a bit of orange gummi bear in Lauren's teeth last night, and knew for certain that he would never leave a bag of direct-from-Germany, premium-quality gummi bears exposed to the elements, but arguing the issue would be a waste of time.

Oh well. He was thirty-eight years old, and far too mature to grieve over a simple bag of candy. The ants got into it, the ants had suffered their deserved fate, and that was the end of it. Once her show ended, Lauren might let him switch over to the Sci-Fi Channel and then everything would be okay.

"Did you check for more of them?" Lauren called out.

"More what?" he asked.

"Ants," Lauren replied, her voice clearly indicating that he was a gargantuan idiot.

"No, I got 'em all."

"I mean, did you check the rest of the food? They could have gotten into more things."

"I don't think so. I only saw them in the gummi bears."

"Well why don't you check?"

Charlie decided to check. He opened the pantry door and searched the floor carefully. No sign of any ants amidst the numerous shreds of onionskins that had fallen through the bottom wire shelf. He glanced at the shelves, and everything looked okay.

He wanted to walk out into the living room and ask her if he should open up the canned goods to ensure that they were ant-free, but he decided that it wasn't a good idea. Lauren's sense of humor tended toward the non-existent.

A box of cereal on the top shelf was open. Not surprisingly, it wasn't his Froot Loops or Count Chocula that had been left open, but Lauren's grain cereal with the unpronounceable name. She should be the one in here looking for bugs in the food.

He took down the box and peered inside. Not only had she left the box open, but also she hadn't bothered to roll down the top of the bag. And yes, the cereal was absolutely swarming with tiny red ants.

He closed up the top and headed for the garbage can, but no, Lauren should at least see that it was her cereal that was infested. She always tried to blame everything on him, but she knew darn well that he never touched her crappy twig cereal.

"You left your cereal open," he said, displaying the box as he stepped into the living room. Lauren was lying on the couch, feet propped up on the armrest, bony legs bent at the knee.

"Then maybe you should close it," she suggested, glaring at him with her eyes of Satan.

"Too late. The ants already got it, see?" He opened the lid and waved the box at her.

"No, I don't wanna see. Just throw it away. What's the matter with you?"

"I just thought you might want to see."

"Why would I want to see a bunch of bugs in my cereal? Maybe if you wouldn't forget to close the pantry door this wouldn't happen."