The Zombie Ladybug Apocalypse

(I am at my mom and dad's.  This was an email I sent to my family and Emily thought it should be posted here. So she did.)

So last night I got to thinking that between the clumsily-held matches, the inferno in the wood stove, and the kerosene liberally squirted into the fire, there was a good chance that the house would go up in flames some day or night and there I was, down in the basement bedroom with no good fire escape.

So I pulled the nightstand out of the corner and over just under the window and made sure I could open the window and escape if I needed to and put my purse in grabbing distance.

Yes.  I could rest in peace.

Except.

Over in the corner where the nightstand had been were two clusters of dead ladybugs, maybe a hundred of them in a webby cluster 18 inches up on the wall, and another two hundred in a pile on the floor.  I'd have to vacuum them up in the morning.

I tried to sleep.

Odd plops and noises came from the corner.  I turned on the light.  The ladybugs  on the wall were coming alive, crawling a bit, and plopping to the floor.

I went upstairs and got the can of Raid and sprayed it on the ladybugs.  Then I went back to bed.

Soft scritches and plops and other noises continued.

Gaaahhh!

I sprayed some more.

The mass of bugs on the floor was quite un-dead.  But they seemed oblivious to the Raid.

Horrors.

I gave up and went to sleep with a sense of doom.

In the morning the house had not burned down, the ladybugs had not taken over the room, and I was reasonably fine.

The end.