Sunday, September 13, 2009

Ladybird, ladybird...


I occasionally get ladybugs in my apartment.  And it always delights me to see them.  I don't know why.  

I only ever get one ladybug visitor at a time.  Last Winter I had one stay with me for a few months and was very sad the day I came home from work and found his dried up little ladybug body on my window sill. 

Well, I came home the other day to find a new ladybug crawling across my ceiling.  I immediately squealed my tall penguin squeal (if you've been around me in real life, you can testify that I release a very high-pitched squeal when I'm happy).  Somehow, it's nice to come home to a living thing.  My aloe vera and bamboo just don't cut it.  

And I talk to my ladybug friend:

"Hello Mr. Ladybug!"  (Ladybugs are always male to me...not sure why.)  "How was your day? Did you find some yummies to eat?"

It's odd because I don't do this with the spiders or centipedes I happen to find taking up residence in my humble abode.  They are usually met with a swipe of my shoe and a mea culpa. But for some reason, ladybugs feel friendly to me. I'm sure it's the stories I was told as a child or maybe it's just the way ladybugs look that makes them so endearing.  Also probably why it's harder for me to eat lamb than chicken, but I digress. 

Whatever the reason I like my ladybug roomie, it's sure nice to have company.

tall penguin


1 comment:

Ganga Fondan said...

So you are more than a little prejudiced. tee hee. what a cute little fella'.

Hugs,
Ganga