I always woke up just long enough in the morning to give my 8-year-old son breakfast and get him on the school bus. One day he began complaining that there were ants in the cereal. I did not have my glasses on and insisted that there were not. Later in the week I had a bowl of the cereal and there was indeed a faint taste of ants—and the formic acid they exude, as the gardener next door explained.
I still ate it.