Henry received that classic boy project for Christmas, an ant farm. In case you don't have a nine-year-old, ant farms are now very hi-tech with edible (by ants) gel and disco lighting. 
We had to order the ants separately, and have been waiting and worrying about them in this cold shipping weather.
They showed up yesterday in their special ant tube, looking all crumpled and dead. We were really bummed and I was steeling myself for the customer service call and the ant return shipping , when we detected an antenna or two waving feebly.
I popped the cap and the fresh warm air must have been resuscitating, because they started to stir. We got their new compound ready and dropped them in. They all woke up and ran around like crazy, waving arms and legs and trying to storm the lid.
Since it was nighttime and they'd had a grueling flight, we thought they'd like to relax and party a little, so turned on the blue lights and cranked up the tunage.
They were clearly organizing for the great escape when we went to bed.
The booklet said that it might take them one or two days to start tunneling, but our ants ignored the instructions and got busy. Overnight, they found a fault in the gel by the side wall and carved out a little ramp and a long drop with a landing area at the bottom. They carried gel boulders up to the surface and started re-landscaping, building little hills and slopes and rock piles all over.
Henry of course wanted to name them. The booklet says they're all female. "This includes all the ant workers, soldiers, etc. that you find outdoors. Male ants are created only as needed by the colony for reproductive purposes and they die shortly after mating."
Hmm. Maybe they've got something there. Just saying.
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