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
whirligirl 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.
jakethelad said…
Hi Q. When I was growing up in South Africa we called them, Lady Birds. Wasn't one of the President's wives Ladybird? We had this little rhyme we'd recite to the lady birds, as they sat on our fingers, which went something like, 'Lady bird, lady bird fly away, your house is on fire and your children are burning ... one, two, three, FLY.' We would expect them to fly away at that point. And mostly they did. Anyway, that's how I remember it as a kid.
Jake
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.
Alex said…
I may be biased from spending long hours in the outdoors, but lady bugs are the best kind of bug to run into. No bee stings, plant poisons, or infectious diseases to worry about.
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.
Queenie said…
You are a dolt!

Q
whirligirl 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
PintosWowzone 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

Again

When I was in Ottawa, abandoned and enthralled,
breathing in the
heat waves shimmering off the people
and the cats
and that lazy raccoon that I later named Mondrian in my mind
after I saw my first one,
I did not look for you.
Nor in the malls, the halls,
the magazines, in the new towns,
or down the old roads,
on silver screens, between the book shelves, down on my knees
hands in the clover.
Never.
I took you for granted.
Oh hey.
There you are.

I know myself
Far, far, far more than I let on
I know what I am doing.
Regardless.


Love is such an easy word.
Besides, it's a given,
We can keep it there, easy, big, broad like the straight black painted lines, it's nice.
Effortless. Quiet. Assured.
So then, I guess that it is not the word.

Punks-Starting to Remember

Minnie is 14. She likes wearing bright red lipstick and getting high.
Right now, Tommy is arguing with her. "Vitto will be waiting for me then."
"He can wait longer," she tells him. "Tell him there was too many cops following you around or something."
"Yeah," Tommy says. "That might work. Vitto would believe that. Three different cops stopped me on the street this week."
"What?" Minnie almost shouted. "Oh, Tommy. They are on to you."
“No, they aren't."
But she knew. "For sure they are. Listen. Meet me outside the pool hall at 9:30. I'll havethe dope then, Tommy."
“No. I really should go see Vitto first.” He kisses her quickly on the forehead and then runs home to make himself some Kraft Dinner for supper.

When he walks in the front door, there is Momma with a bottle of whiskey tucked between her legs, her head rolled to the back of the couch, her mouth open.
"What the fuck, Momma?” Tomm…

Quiet Company

I've been sold, I've been sold, I've been sold, I'm being sold-out
It is torture but
I don't even care
Except to love you more, to love myself more
Those hot-burned tears for you as I rally to save my skin
wind down me and leave behind gold and green
and I don't stop looking
until I look upon you
What on earth...
I've been sold, I've been sold, I've been sold.
I'm being sold-out.


Sunlight filtering through cracks
in the sky
in the walls
fall across your skin
I fingerpaint across your chest
Every word
known to man
and found in you

Fresh snow
Our footprints mark us
You are here!
I am here!
We are here!
Turn your face upwards
Let falling snow rest on your eyelashes
(dream of me)
Let the white melt on your outstretched tongue

Sing.
It's spring.
Just one word.


I'd sit across the hall
looking upwards until I saw the flicker; light on
Sit with you while your busy hands rolled over these plains, these fields
The stretches of nothing
(Look at…