Bleary-eyed, after a much-too-late night spent watching the Oscars, I woke up to quickly hop in the shower.  I emerged from the shower all clean and relaxed only to practically have a heart attack because a 4-year-old was almost literally attached to the other side of the shower door.  I then spent approximately 1 minute mentally pleading with God to get me to the stage where I’d be able to take a quick shower alone.

I shimmied into my unmentionables and scampered to get the hair dryer out.  As I fired it up, I noticed that someone else in the bathroom probably just had a heart attack too.  Behold:

I mean, if I were a Ladybug, I don’t think I’d be very happy that A) I was trapped inside of a house, in a bathroom no less, or B) that someone had just blared an ear-splitting (do Ladybugs have ears?) sound so close to me.  In that moment, she didn’t need her wings.  I was probably levitating her with the sound vibrations.  Poor thing.

And then, to make matters even worse, Sweetgirl spied her.  Oh dear.

Much chasing ensued.  I was still in my skivvies. Sweetgirl was chasing the Ladybug around the bathroom.  I kept trying to catch the Ladybug to get her out of there and set her free. It was a comedy of errors in a 5 X 7 space.  At Far Too Early o’clock in the morning.

I’m sad to report that in my efforts to “rescue” the Ladybug, I accidentally shooed her too close to the sink drain and down she went.

Then, it was time to explain to a stricken almost-five-year-old that maybe she would fly all the way down and out into the brisk winter air and find her family.

But she probably just had a heart attack.

I blame it on the Oscars.