This is going to be an interesting Christmas. The parents have finally invited me and my sister around, and this is going to be the first time that I’ve seen them since they threw us out at age eleven.See, my Dad LOVES Christmas, everything about it, from Santa to the elves and everything in between. One time my sister and I thought it’d be fun to replace the words to ‘Angels We Have Heard on High’ with ones of our own creation: ‘Angles we have seen on high, 3.14 equals Pi’. Dad became enraged that we would ruin Christmas with our terrible words and we were homeless for a year afterwards.
Anyway, we both got a job as cleaners sweeping up the remains after the pest controllers had been in a place, which was a lowly position but the only way we could support ourselves as eleven-year-olds. So you know pest control, where people go and remove pests. Also known as pest removal, or pest extermination…all of those words apply. Anyway, someone has to clean up all those dead ants, and someone with small fingers is best equipped to get the dustpan and brush into those tight corners and wall openings to get rid of all the termites. We were proud to be helping out the industry, since pest inspections are held in high regard around here. And even though our position was lowly, we were able to eke out an honest living, and even rent a small three-bedroom apartment facing the ocean. I wasn’t kidding about the pest control industry…even for bug sweepers it paid very well, and we were very skilled, hence why everyone wanted a piece of what we had to offer.
Ten years later, we no longer work with the Frankston termite control, but we have etched our names into the industry. Dad needed termite control for the house, our names were brought up, and he realised that it was finally time to forgive. And it’s time for us to forgive, as well. You learn so many lessons, sweeping dead ants into a dustpan, and one of them…is the value of family.