The Burning Love of the Brotherhood

As I have mentioned many times in this blog, Jay is an active member of the Knights of Columbus. He belongs to a particularly vibrant council, and many days of our month are filled with Knights-sponsored social activities for our whole family to enjoy.

Jay feels as if these men are his brothers. He feels secure knowing that if anything ever happened to him that our family would be surrounded by their care and support. The Knights take care of their own; they watch each others backs and those of their loved ones.

Case in point:

At the Knight's family BBQ on Saturday afternoon, Tony had the misfortune of stepping on a red ant hill that had emerged under the kids' swings on the back lot of the Knights' Hall. This was our first outdoor event of the year and, evidently, the ants had really established themselves over the dormant months.

Poor Tony. He had a literal case of ants in his pants. Those things were running up his legs, over and in his diaper, and all over his feet and legs. Now, under normal circumstances, Tony is extremely squeamish about bugs. In this circumstance, he was hysterical. I stripped him, brushed them all off and finally calmed him down. They weren't fire ants, thank goodness, just really large (1/4 inch) and scary looking, so he was back to playing with the other kids before long.

As far I was concerned, the event was over. One of the Knights had put up yellow caution tape around the swing set to keep the kids out and I figured that was about it. But then I noticed the rumbling, the activity, the electricity in the air. Those ants had bothered the WRONG kid. The Knights were mobilizing.

First came the ant poison. One of them marched right up the hill and poured a hefty amount of some toxic powder down the hill. Five or six Knights gathered around to see how effective this was and the general conclusion was that it was not enough. Next came the shovels and spray hose. Again, no satisfaction. Hoards of Knights were now gathered around the ant hill, arguing and gesturing wildly. Finally, out came the gasoline can and the torch. I kid you not.

Those Knights, bless them, poured gasoline down that ant hill and torched it. You should have heard their roar of satisfaction as they crisped the ants that had dared to hurt our Tony. They were men on a mission and they were not going to stop until those ants were obliterated.

Clouds of black, probably toxic smoke poured downwind (away from the rest of us, thank goodness!) straight to the neighboring fire station. We all watched semi-frozen as the door to the fire station opened up and emitted a fire engine. Which, of course, came straight to us.

Now it was back to the shovels. That sand was flying. Before the truck arrived the fire was out, the ants were finished and the Knights were looking innocent, milling around the yard as if nothing had ever happened. The fire truck slowed down, looked at us all suspiciously and then returned to the station.

You have never seen a pack of men more satisfied with themselves. There was back slapping. There was high-fiving. There was, of course, much celebratory drinking.

You've gotta love those guys.