“Polichinelle, polichinelle ….”
On Saturday, Joseph was telling us all how he found a ladybird in the school playground but the interesting thing about this ladybird, were its’ “funny colours”.
Apparently, instead of being red with several black dots, it was orange with just a couple of dots. This sounded quite cool (as far as ladybirds go, that is) and, as if to prove his point, one such ladybird flew silently and delicately through our French doors and landed on our dresser.
This tiny insect brings out this instinct in me to want to have it crawl onto my hand, obviously with the sole intention for me to tell it that its’ home is on fire and all its children are gone which, on reflection, is a bit cruel.
Anyway, I gathered it up, marvelled at its colours before allowing Joseph and Annabel a turn at having it run about on their hands, before blowing it into the garden.
We forgot about it.
Until yesterday that is.
M was telling us about a report she’d read, informing the reader of the “aggressive, invasive cannibal that is the harlequin ladybird”. Apparently it eats weaker ladybirds and aphids, but will even “munch on people at a push” if they have not had a decent meal that day.
Joseph was listening to this intently and, with a very matter of fact look on his face and a thumb cocked to indicate ‘yesterday’, said, “well it’s a good job that one we picked up had eaten a good meal then”.
All said with a completely straight face and without a hint of humour as always, reduces me a laughing heap. The knock on effect of him making me roar like this is he immediately joins in, which in turn has Missy diving on top of him, on top of me and invariably a stray knee or foot finds my delicate parts.
End laughter immediately.
Great while it lasts though.