Once upon a time a seven-spot toad that was depicted on my cup fell in love with a cow. The toad yearned to get on the shaggy cow‘s back and nevermore jump off it. Once, on a day that nobody considers a holiday, the toad skipped into a jar of milk and hid in it.

‘But cups don't jump!?’ Gretute exclaimed.

‘But love binds!’ retorted Jonukas.

Personally, I never liked fresh milk. Therefore, it was more than obvious that some stranger used to secretly drink milk out of my cup as he certainly never washed it.

Meanwhile, the cow in the meadow had secret desires of its own. It dreamed that one day the toad would jump on its back and catch all the insects that were annoyingly attacking; trying to eat it up starting from the inside, as if another one needed blood in order to survive.

‘Squeeze “Hematogen”,’ the cow used to curse, but the toad still admired it...

That day happened to be a hot summer day. The toad dozed off in a cool jar of milk and never woke up. Actually, it did awake after it had drowned in the cow‘s milk. The question that doesn‘t need to be answered here is whether the death of the toad was painful?

For the toad’s bravery, God turns it into a God‘s little cow (a ladybird). What an ambiguity and God is so selfish!

The one who used to secretly drink out of my cup got what he deserved, as even in Asia nobody eats toads with milk.

Up to this very day the cow keeps whisking its tail trying to chase away the irritating ladybird off its back. If the cow were in India, everything would be easy to explain - all who are alike gather on the same bench.

Jonukas and Gretute never found their way home but they lived happily ever after.

The same cup in front of me has a seven-spot ladybird on it and the tea is getting cold...