Sugar and spice and all things nice...that's what little girls are supposed to be made of. Not mine! Mine came trotting into the kitchen this morning and proudly handed me a woodlouse. Ewwww! It was dead by the time she gave it to me, but whether she found it alive will remain one of life's unsolvable mysteries. I'm not about to perform a postmortem on the thing, which is now enjoying it's final resting place in my bin.
"Lovebugs, Ladybug" by Tania Schuppert