Bitten by the bullet. . .

OK, this isn't the ant that I was bitten by (thankfully). I was bitten by little, tiny, rotten, sneaky critters.

The ballin (bullet) ant is a bit longer than your thumb nail, and you can actually see the pincers on them without a microscope or magnifying glass.

Fortunately, I have never been bitten by one, though others here (Miguel and Chiza) have.

When you are bitten by one of these buggers, you definitely know it. Just the other day, while I was raking up more leaves and Chiza was putting them into the cart (yes, I am a fast learner) I looked over and Chiza was doing a jig.

I asked him what was wrong, and he just yelled "Ballin! Ballin! Ballin!

Of course, being a hip, young Tico (he's around 22 or so) he was wearing jeans that had holes in them. Probably good for impressing ladies at the local soda or bar, but not ideal for working in the jungle.

When I helpfully pointed that out to him, he taught me some new Spanish words that won't be reprinted here in a family blog.