Since the spring, I’ve shared my bedroom with a rusty red ladybug. I’d swear it was the same one that bunked with me in the fall (they could be twins—the red body, the black spots…), but that seems unlikely. Either way, this one enjoys resting on my warm lamp, occasionally taking flight and reminding me she’s there. Given that ladybugs symbolize luck, I leave her alone and feel grateful that she’s chosen to grace me with her lucky presence. I can’t imagine my place is nutrient-rich, so it’s a wonder she’s alive. Ladybugs feast on other tiny pests, so here’s hoping my room has a family of aphids or some tasty dust mites.
When I left for work today, she was still perched on the lamp, so I was a little surprised to look down at my blouse on my morning walk and discover that yet another ladybug was clinging to my sleeve. Apparently, I’m a magnet for the lucky bug.
Now if I could just get lucky…
I found a ladybug in my hair one evening while I was lounging in bed reading. Unfortunately, I killed it (yes, I regret the act.) Does this mean my good luck has been taken away and replaced with bad luck.
By: ha on September 10, 2008
at 9:50 pm