Today, while watering the garden at dusk, I:
(1) Picked up a sprinkler to move it, not realizing until too late that it had been sitting in a fire ant hill;
(2) Scrambled to brush all the ants off, getting bitten repeatedly between my fingers;
(3) Discovered that I had been standing in additional ants, which were now biting my feet inside my garden clogs;
(4) Killed every ant I could find on my body;
(5) Ran to go get the other sprinkler and fell into a post hole;
(6) Ascertained that while my ankle was twisted badly, it wasn't broken;
(7) Struggled to my feet and hobbled to the second sprinkler;
(8) Picked it up and realized that it, too, was covered in fire ants;
(9) Cried out, "YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!"
All the parts of me that aren't coated with Benadryl gel are covered in ice packs. I've had better evenings.