A ladybug landed on my butt today. That's the whole story. We laughed about it at work, saying that it sounded like the first line of a Shel Silverstein poem. No, I didn't sit on it; we thought it was some very scary-looking spot on my khakhis until I reached down and it climbed onto my fingers and flew away. Apparently my behind makes a more than ample landing strip when you're a ladybug. I hear that having a ladybug land on you is good luck; I guess it doesn't really matter where it lands. Anyone who wants to write me a ladybug poem is encouraged to send it to me here. Woo hoo! Now that my comments are back up, feel free to leave a poem there if the mood strikes.