My favorite kind of ladybug is bigger than the regular kind. It's about as big across as a quarter. And somehow it grows aluminum deposits in the bright red polka dot shell of its wings or exoskeleton or whatever, so it's tough and durable but still somehow able to fly. My favorite ladybug whispers quietly in Ukrainian, but I don't speak a word of that so I don't know what it's saying. It absorbs radiation and airborne toxins but stays pure itself, like the legends say a unicorn's horn or a gross bezzoar might do. Sharks grow friendly and playful when they're within line of sight of my faborite kind of ladybug. Sushi always tastes fresh, and nobody sings out of tune.
My favorite kind of ladybug enjoys helping out others with tax questions, and it helps make tea. It can field-strip an AK-47 in four seconds flat, and it can teach even the clumsiest cad how to foxtrot or waltz.
I've yet to meet a ladybug that's anything like that, but I'm holding out.