Friday, October 29, 2010

Why is it that as soon as I *hear* the word lice, my head starts to itch?

The title, by the way, constitutes full disclosure. You know what you are getting into.

For the past few weeks everyone and their mother (father, sister, brother, grandmother, teacher, bus driver - you name it - EVERYONE) has been dealing with lice. Or avoiding lice. Or checking for lice. Or walking around convinced they HAVE lice and it's just that the nurse who checked couldn't see them yet, because OH MY GOD THEIR HEAD IS ITCHING AND YOU CAN TOTALLY FEEL THOSE BUGGERS WALKING AROUND IN THERE.

And the phone calls - these must be worse than the calls you make after being diagnosed with something, uh, personal. "Um, hi, I just went to the doctors and I have the (clap/warts/herpes) and you should probably get checked." Oh, the uncomfortable silence that must follow that announcement. You know, right before the screaming and cursing and the "If that shit doesn't kill you I WILL" and on and on and on.

It's the same way with parents. Sort of.
"Um, hi. The school nurse just called, and um, well......."
And because you know - YOU KNOW - that it's a crapshoot and no matter how careful you are, it could just as easily be you making these phonecalls, you have compassion in your heart - for at least the length of the conversation. But when the call is ended, man, I can guarantee there is some yelling and cursing going on.

Today I had a phone conversation - just a simple phone conversation - about lice, and now my head itches so much I don't think I should go to work. Or even leave the house. I can't check for lice on my own head, therefore I can't give myself the all clear. So I am just sitting here.


I seriously considered asking the mail lady if she would just take a quick look.
I am contemplating a preventative dose of NIX.
Or at least a good scrub with tea tree oil.

I have no idea what to do. I am paralyzed. Stymied.

We have had to deal with lice twice - and both times I was traumatized.
The tiny comb.
All the HAIR we have.
And the bedding.
And the furniture.
And the car.
And the booster seat IN the car.
And the dress up box. The whole thing got thrown away the second time.

I don't think I can go through it again.
Even though I don't have lice.
I know I don't.
None of us do.
Maybe we do.
Oh god, the itching.

I am supposed to be at a first birthday party right now, and then heading (HAHAHA PUNNY!) off to the dinner/late night shift.
But I can't.

Can you call into work itchy?
Because that's all it is. I know that.
But still. And yet. The itching.

No comments: