Madrehood,  Writing

Random and Mundane #1: Catarina

There’s a ladybug in my room and I can’t bring myself to kill it.

Normally I’d grab a shoe, whack at the insect, and nag my husband Javier to clean up the corpse.

Today when I saw it on the window sill so serene and calm, I felt that disturbing that peace would be an awful thing to do.

So I took a nap with my son Chris in my arms. Any sudden movements would stir him anyways. I had more than enough excuses not to harm this ladybug.

Whenever it spread its wings, I’d see more black than color. It was disgusting to look at, I won’t lie. I wondered if I was staring at one ladybug or two attached together. Reminded me of the love bugs that would plague Hermann Park back when I lived in Houston, Texas.

Catarina. I looked up the word before explaining to Javier in Spanish about the ladybug situation.

“It was here before Corona,” I said to make sure he didn’t freak out.

“No, it’s a different one. There must be several around,” Javier noted.

So I wasn’t looking at the same ladybug every day? That unsettled me.

I hate bugs. I haven’t seen a roach in a while. When I lived with my mother, our house became infested with them. I’d go into the kitchen at night for a glass of water and see them crawling along the walls and the floors. It’s sickening just thinking about it.

They were tiny fuckers too. Seeing a big one was actually comforting. The little ones meant that they were multiplying and hatching.

I get goosebumps just thinking about it.

To this day, I associate bugs with sloth, dirt, and grandparents raising their own grandchildren because their parents are always in and out of prison.

That last part may seem like a stretch but it’s true. My mom adopted her grandchildren, who were toddlers at the time. They dropped food everywhere. I believe it was their terrible habits that led to the infestation in the first place.

I saw that ladybug this morning and thought about killing it. In fact, after I finish typing this I should go in there and be with my family. I can hear Chris laughing and crying. I bet Javier won’t want to clean up after I do away with that damn bug.

How did it get in here, to begin with? I don’t like being reminded of the life that I left behind in Texas.

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