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It all started a few months ago, when I noticed about thirty lady bugs on the wall of our balcony. A few of them must have flown in when I opened the door because all of a sudden, we were the hosts to about three or four new guests.
I can’t really explain why, but I didn’t really mind having them around. Well, my little guests have gone forth and multiplied, and now we have ladybugs buzzing around the lights, on the computer screen, on the television screen, sauntering along on the furniture. All in all, there probably aren’t that many (Jason escorted about half a dozen outside yesterday), and we probably only have another ten or so left. But still, they’re BUGS, icky nasty bugs. Why am I so attached to them?
So the next time I decide to go on some weird “Oh, we can’t kick the ladybugs out, they’re our friends,” I have given my family full permission to give me shit.
I can’t really explain why, but I didn’t really mind having them around. Well, my little guests have gone forth and multiplied, and now we have ladybugs buzzing around the lights, on the computer screen, on the television screen, sauntering along on the furniture. All in all, there probably aren’t that many (Jason escorted about half a dozen outside yesterday), and we probably only have another ten or so left. But still, they’re BUGS, icky nasty bugs. Why am I so attached to them?
So the next time I decide to go on some weird “Oh, we can’t kick the ladybugs out, they’re our friends,” I have given my family full permission to give me shit.
no subject
Date: 2006-01-19 12:51 am (UTC)