The Not So Lucky Ladybug

Yesterday Lucas was very excited.  No, really.  Very excited.  Because he got a new pet.  He found a lady bug.  Oh, the love this kid has for all of God's creatures...  Yowza.

So, he got the ladybug's home all ready.  Then he may, or may not have tried to sneak it into bed with him...  There's the ladybug's new home.  

Ladybug is all set up.  Comfy mesh prison home?  Check. Giant cup of liquid death nice refreshing cup of water?  Check.  (which by the way, I am very impressed that he managed to get down the stairs this morning without spilling a drop of Ladybug's water.  That's a dedicated pet owner, right there.)  Humongous weird thing ball to play with?  Check.
Lucas had thought of everything.  Even a hand full of grass clippings to make it more cozy.  I tried to convince him that his ladybug would be more comfortable outside and that he needed to be set free.  But apparently, we have reached the stage where mother knows nothing.  (Wonderful. I thought that was a teenager thing?)  I told him, Lucas, your ladybug doesn't eat grass.  He thought about it for a second, (mentally rereading all of the ladybug literature he has ever come across undoubtedly) and said, Mom.  Go get some aphids!  

Poor, poor, most beloved of all ladybugs.  It's going to be a long weekend.  Or rather...  An untimely short weekend.  Sorry, dude.

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