I vote, I count

When I realized that Michael would be working on election day, and that I could be stuck in an endless line while wrangling two small children ... I decided to go ahead and vote early. I went to the most rural of my county's early voting locations. The line was short enough that although I took my knitting I only got one row of knitting done. On a swatch, so that's about 20 stitches. It was a quick line.

It is possible I would have gotten more knitting done, bu as soon as I got in line I felt a tickle on my butt, at the top of my crack. Like inside my jeans. As surreptitiously as possible I jiggled my jeans, hoping that I just had a leaf or stray tag. A few moments later I felt the tickle again. I turned my back to the wall and slid my hand down in my pants, but there was nothing there besides underwear.

On and off through the process of voting I had that tickle sensation return, which is almost, but not quite, as distracting as two small children in a polling place. When I was done voting and back in the car I felt around the seat of my pants more thoroughly, but still there was nothing but the phantom tickle.

I went clothes shopping at my favorite local Goodwill store, and in the dressing room I checked again. Nothing. Then I felt the tickle and slapped at it, and felt a little something. I squashed it and flipped it out of the waistband of my panties and saw it, a smooshed Republican ladybug bent on mayhem at the polls. I'm grateful it wasn't a cockroach!