When I moved into my home last spring, I was more worried about whether I had enough furniture than whether I had uninvited roommates. But not even two weeks in, I spotted a trail of tiny ants zigzagging across the hallway floor like they owned the place. One became three. Three became thirty. And suddenly, I was sharing my home with a full-on ant colony.
At first, I tried to be chill. I swept. I wiped. I Googled “natural ant repellents” and even sprinkled cinnamon along the windowsills. (Spoiler: the ants did not care.) I started hoarding airtight containers like it was the end of days. Even my flour and sugar were under lockdown. I couldn’t cook without feeling like I was being watched. My sister asked me to please stop inspecting every surface with a flashlight. I couldn’t. It was personal now.
Terro T300 Liquid Ant Baits was my unexpected hero.
I came across them after doom-scrolling through a home improvement subreddit, where someone swore they “cleared an entire kitchen infestation in days.” I was desperate. I bought a 12-pack from a hardware store down the street and set them out with low expectations.
The Calm After the Swarm
Within 48 hours, the bait stations were buzzing — or crawling, technically — with tiny ant patrons. It was disgusting. It was glorious. It was working.
The Terro baits are deceptively simple: a bit of sugary liquid mixed with borax (a safe-ish chemical often found in laundry boosters). The ants carry it back to the nest, thinking they’ve hit the jackpot. Within a couple of weeks, they’re gone. Not just the ones you see, but the entire colony.
I noticed the traffic to each bait station would peak after two or three days, then fade. One by one, the rooms cleared out: first the guest room, then the hallway, then the pantry. And just like that — no more ants. Not in the sugar. Not in the sink. Not even around the dog bowl.
Lessons from the Front Lines
- Trap placement matters. I had one bait that sat untouched for days until I realized it was nowhere near an active trail. Once I repositioned it along the ants’ “highway,” it became rush hour.
- You might freak out at first. The ant count will go up before it goes down. But that’s actually a good sign — it means they’re taking the bait and spreading it.
- Opening them cleanly is an art. You’re supposed to twist the cap to open each trap, but honestly, I just cut mine with scissors. Way less messy.
- Keep them out of reach. I don’t have kids, but I do have a nosy Labrador. I slid a couple of traps under the stove and behind furniture, just to be safe.
- Transparency is both helpful and horrifying. You can watch the ants swarm inside the traps, which is both gross and satisfying. Terro makes opaque versions too, but I liked being able to confirm that they were doing their job.
Long-Term Results
That infestation was last May. It’s now the following spring, and we haven’t seen a single ant since. I still have a couple of unopened bait stations in the drawer, just in case we have a rematch this year. But so far? Peace.
I never expected to develop such strong feelings about ant traps, but here we are. If you’re in the midst of your own tiny-houseguest crisis, trust me: Terro T300 might just save your sanity — and your cereal.