Skip to main content

Ladies In Red

It was three nights ago now, close to bedtime when my son informed me there had been a lady bug in his Lamp Shade all day.
"Lady Bugs are nice Bugs," I said.
"Yeah," he replied.
I thought about...

...a few weeks ago when The Spider had been in his Lamp Shade. A Spider with long legs.
My son had noticed him at three in the afternoon. Both of us just decided to not go into his room for the rest of the day.
I even let him stay-up half an hour later than usual.
The Spider was still in the Lamp Shade, when I had to put him to bed.
And my son was not going to go to sleep with The Spider in his room.
And I am never touching a spider.
So, I got out the broom and killed my second spider ever...

Bradlee and his mother are Everyday visitors in my home. Bradlee's mother likes coffee. Like me. But sometimes we have to drink pop. And once, orange juice.
The boys always take off to my son's room. And they are heathens. But in away that really hurts no one. Hardly ever even each other.
For the past few days, every time I have checked on them, they have been playing with the plastic tennis rackets and baseball bats.
I will admit, they looked vaguely guilty.
But when I looked around the room, nothing was broken.
No one was screaming.
So, I let them have their fun.

Last night, my son showed me there was three Lady Bugs in his Lamp Shade.
"Are they Bugging you?" I asked.
"Not really," he said. "Me and Bradlee have been getting rid of lots."
"Oh," I said. "I think Lady Bugs are cute."
"Yeah," he said. "Bradlee does not."
I looked around his room.
"Well, at least you guys are getting rid of the bodies."
"In the toilet," he said.
"Be careful who you tell that to," I said, as I closed his bedroom door.
And decided to go pee.
There was a Lady Bug crawling over my cold water tap.
Well, I use hot water to wash my hands.

I was doing dishes when I noticed a Lady Bug on one of the blue coffee mugs sitting on my counter. She looked comfortable, so I did not wash it.
Besides, I can appreciate anything that enjoys a good cup of coffee.
There was another Lady Bug in my window sill, enjoying the evening breeze like me. And one who was climbing up my top cupboards. Who knows why. But she seemed to know.

One was walking lazily along the green table cloth on my dining room table.
"Not quite like grass, is it?" I said to her, and let her be because I noticed one climbing up my Big White front door.
"You maybe what outside?" I asked.
So, I opened the Big White door, but left the Screen Door closed.
I am under the assumption, Lady Bugs are the magical kind of bugs that can walk through a Screen Door if they so desire to.

I settled into my chair in front on the computer last night to write.
But I also took messages from someone on my Messenger.
I let him know I was infested with Lady Bugs.
I was hoping for some insight.
He typed back about gnats sometimes having sex on garbage.
I sighed. Nobody knows how to get rid of Lady Bugs, because they are not annoying. Or gross.
And I let The Voice know this.
You are picking the wrong bugs, Dumbass, I told him.
Then I looked up at the Lady Bug ontop of my monitor.
"How's it going, Ethel?" I said to her.
She must have been sleeping because she did not answer. This made me think of Stupid Fly.
Do you suppose Ethel is really Stupid Fly re-incarnated? I asked The Voice.
You are an idiot, he replied.
And I just let him have the last word. I have to sometimes, or he gets all pissy.

Comments

Jennifer said…
I thought you might find this interesting! Oh and I enjoy your posts as always :)

http://www.uky.edu/Agriculture/Entomology/entfacts/trees/ef416.htm
Queenie said…
Thank you, Jennifer! That was fantastic.
The whole broom bit made me laugh.

Q
Anonymous said…
I had a friend who worked in tobacco, and he said the worst part of priming was the ladybugs - if they got trapped under his collar or whatever, they would bite him.
ticknart said…
I've been peed on by ladybugs. Don't let their spots and that Sesame Street song about the Ladybug Picnic fool you or you'll be peed on too.
ticknart said…
They just pee on you.

Or maybe it's just me.
Terrible lie said…
well queenie looks like your thrown is safe for now biotch.
Queenie said…
Are you trying to start something?
Two Words...
Bring It.

Q
~Jessie said…
Also, if you grow rose bushes in your garden, ladybugs are excellent for eating the aphids that will otherwise suck the rosebuds dry.
cbeck said…
The trick with lady bugs, I believe, is too stand at the door (now, you must open the screen) and pretend to be a gentleman bug. See, even though you will not really look like one, gentleman bugs are very scarce. The lady bugs will have likely never even seen one before.

-I know this is true because I asked once, and she told me she had not, no one ever does-

So then.. all you have to do.. is stand there with the door open and say, (in a very scrumptious voice "hey ladies, your bug... has arrived."

They will flock to you.
Anonymous said…
We always said it:
"Ladybug, ladybug, fly away home,
Your house is on fire, your children are alone."

As I think about it, if her children really were alone, she probably wasn't much of a lady. At least not a very good mother.
Queenie said…
Jake-it was Ladybird Johnson, I believe.
Right?
Lyndon Johnson's wife?
I am Canadian.
Forgive me, all, if I am wrong.

Q
VivaLaPinto said…
this entire post is quite amusing! I enjoyed reading it. However, we have an infestation of ants, and it is neither as harmless an infestation, nor as non-gross an infestation as Lady Bugs. count yourself lucky.

www.pintoisfun.blogspot.com
Queenie said…
Thanks for stopping by, sweetie.

Q

Popular posts from this blog

The Village Itself

Across the road from my home is an apartment building. It is made of brown brick and has three stories. It also has plenty of windows I often forget about while I go about my daily and nightly routines. I also forget my curtains are white, lacey and see-through scraps purchased from an aisle in Wal-Mart. Fifteen apartments. That may all house people with binoculars. It was the muggiest night this past summer had owned. Brenda was down for a visit and when she comes, it usually means a night spent over on my couch for her. Brenda lives in another town. It was one in the morning, no sleep to be found between the two us. We sat slouched on my front porch trying to capture the occasional breeze offered, sucking it deep into our lungs, praying it would cool us down. Our glasses of Pepsi sweated warning us how warm the drink would taste in our mouths. "Tilly! Tilly!" the shout sat our spines straight as we looked across the street to the where the sound was coming fr...

Rosy Cheeks

My son's circle and lined wall, created with the permanent red marker, became something he liked to show-off. I guess the other kids who come here liked it, too.   I guess he wanted to show-off more. That is one of the many hypothesis I have about how the Map of Africa came to be. I just keep hoping my kid is some kind of odd little genius.  On the morning I discovered the map of Africa, I was not speechless and I could breathe. "What is this?" I demanded. And loudly. My son shrugged his shoulders. "I like it. It's nice. Took a long time." He had chipped paint off the wall. His walls are white. That morning, it was discovered his room used to be beige.   And it was starting to look like a room in an abandoned house. I thought to myself that maybe this look would be the in thing  20 years from now and he could make millions. He could be a visionary. It was a good enough excuse for me to leave the room. I used it...

..What Are You Waiting For?

She had a real calm smile; it took its time creeping up into her eyes. And there she was looking up at me. She was sitting, right down there on the sidewalk, up against the wall of the bank. Her hand was wrapped around a red pen; buried into a magazine. And I was walking by her. Her eyes were brown. I did not smile back at her. One can never be too sure about anyone who is downtown. A few days later; it was grey and chilly, and I saw her again. With the same simple smile; this time growing into recognition. She stood just inside the entrance way of the video store, ducked, despite the fact she was barley five feet tall and the doorway was at least ten. Funny girl, I thought. Her smile passed by quickly, and then she bent her head down, to the inside of another magazine. She took a long, lipstick drag off a cigarette. "What are you doing?" she asked, when I was passing by her a day and a half later. And I stopped my step, for I was truly stumped. I looked down at my br...