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.