I have always had an affinity for ladybugs. They are cute. They are polka-dotted. They always have a friendly smile on their face. What is not to love? Well let me tell you....
We now live rurally. I know I previously claimed to live rurally, but we now officially live rurally, as in "the roads ain't paved" rurally (did I mention we live rurally?) I don't know what causes ladybugs to thrive, but whatever it is, we have it here. They crawl across the floor, they walk across the table, they join you in the shower, and I have even sighted one crawling across my husband's arm as he slept. They gather on windowsills in droves where they inconveniently die, leaving behind dozens of dried up little ladybug carcasses daily.
My romantic notions about the ladybug have been dashed. I now understand why my son-in-law was opposed to all ladybug nursery decor. Why he thought it ridiculous that we dressed his daughter up as a ladybug for her first Halloween. They are pesky, disgusting little creatures that mask their misdeeds behind a facade of red polka-dotty cuteness. My childhood memories of the delight I felt upon finding one and letting it crawl over my fingers and hands have been replaced by the joy I feel every time I suck one of their lifeless little corpses up with my vacuum cleaner!
My newest hat: "Ladybug Loathing June!"
Oh dear - that was rather devastating! Is it okay if I still love ladybugs? :-)
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