Bugged.

Yesterday, I came home to the sound of a damsel in distress. It was Autumn from the upstairs bathroom. In a burst of athleticism, reminiscent of my high school basketball days, I bounded up the stairs to save her.

I cautiously opened the door to discover a predicament I didn't know how to resolve. My damsel was stranded on her porcelain throne conveniently situated beneath the window which had been breached by an invading army of lady bugs. There was a seemingly endless stream of them flowing from a discrete crack in the woodwork. I've never seen such a spectacle in all my years.

In an attempt to defuse the situation I opened the window and began wafting. I confess I've had plenty of wafting practice in my years, but my wafting skills are honed more towards the wafting of gases and the like. Wafting lady bugs proved more challenging.

Not one to hog all of the glory I deferred to the expertise of my mother-in-law to restore peace to the kingdom. She patiently, one by one, ushered the lady bugs out of the window, and we all lived happily ever after.