When I was little, I loved ladybugs. (Like most kids, I think.) There were always one or two hanging around my grandma’s pool, and since I was an only child and, you know, at my grandma’s house, I spent a lot of time deeply invested in Slightly Sad And Lonely (But Nevertheless Enjoyable) Games With Ladybugs.
And then, somewhere along the line, something changed. I think it was the day that one put its wings in the fully loaded upright position, and I saw the horror lurking underneath.
And now they freak me the f out.
Sure, they are red. And spotted. And red with spots is a lovely look, yes. But, like butterflies, THEY ARE STILL BUGS.
Why does no one see this but me?
Via Enjoli.
