Skip to main content

Oh, yes. It's THE LICE.

Nothing like spending the better part of my weekend washing everything we owned in hot water, bagging up stuffed animals, and destroying my hair and my daughter's. Oh yes. It's THE LICE.

So, Friday the FOURTH child got sent home from The Rabbit's class (four. F-O-U-R.) with lice. I have not had any experience before with these disgusting creatures. Allegedly, they have grown extremely virulent in the past decade as earlier generations went to town on the them with pesticides. Guess what that did? MADE THEM RESISTANT. Whoo hoo.

So what does this mean? Anyone is up for grabs. In my last 48 hours of insanity I have discovered this:

1. Anyone can get them. It has nothing to do with being clean, dirty. Just unlucky.
2. Members of my extended family apparently have battled this recently.
3. Just the thought of them can make you itch. (Watch, you're doing it right now.)
4. They're not even dangerous. Just really really gross. (seriously, they don't carry disease. Just hang out and party. On your blood.)
5. People get loony when they think there's lice around. (I'm the poster child of this.)
6. Schools want you to put malathion on your child's hair to remove it. Remember that stuff?
7. They love all weather. Cold, hot. Equal opportunity parasites.
8. Trying to use a lice comb in thick curly hair should be a torture method listed in the Geneva Convention.
9. Drinking copious amounts of alcohol while using said comb on a child DOES NOT HELP sadly.
10. We're lice-free.

But number ten does not mean I feel any sense of relief. Apparently according to my family member, we're actually bound to get it at some point if in fact it's raging around The Rabbit's class. And our only defense is to check daily, comb daily, wash everything all the time. And try not to panic. Okay. Right. Little insects might be attaching themselves to our hair. Biting us. Laying microscopic eggs. And I can't get upset. It's like the dealing with the Bush presidency all over again.


I am scratching my head just reading this. We went six months of misery when dd was in grade 8 with head lice. She has thick blonde hair, and nothing, I mean nothing could get rid of them. In the end we coated her hair with vaseline, put a shower cap on, and she slept like that over night.

That killed them, but she spent a few weeks with that greasy hair look, as no amount of washing her hair could get rid of the vaseline.

She says she's going into therapy when she's older (she's nearly 23) because of this!!!

Great blog.

Gill in Canada
YLM said…
Hi Gill, Thanks for the vote of confidence. Head lice suck, they really, really do.

Popular posts from this blog

Apologies for being incommunicado this week and hope none of you out there are too distraught not to be receiving the usual almost-daily MotV missives. The reason for the silence is that I'm up to my neck, metaphorically-speaking, in research papers for my first grad course assessment. This experience has made me realise how rigorously un-academic I am in my thinking. It has also illuminated how reliant I am on red wine in order to get through endless evenings typing furiously on my laptop, not to mention the fueling of increasingly colorful curses that I feel obliged to aim at the University's online library system which consistently refuses to spit out any of the journals I'm desperate for (I refuse to believe this is 100% due to my technical incompetence...)Oh well, if this is the price one has to pay in order to realize a long-cherished dream then it's not all that bad... No one ever said a mid-life career change would be easy. Wish me luck!

Recommended & the Mahiki dance-off

My GFs and I went to Mahiki last night, great fun as usual but made me feel a bit old; it seems that Thursday night is the playground of the just-past-pubescent. Oh well. Good tunes though, so whatever.In between taking over the dancefloor - the youngsters may have youth on their side but frankly that shrinks to insignificance in the face of two decades of clubbing experience - one of my GFs and I got into a conversation about why so many people are full of bull.It appears that many people we come across are content to live their lives in a superficial way, skimming the surface of what life has to offer and equating the ownership of stuff (cars, houses, boats, jewelry, designer clothes) with happiness. They converse in terms of status, strut their possessions as a measure of their own self-worth, take themselves far too seriously, are quick to judge others, easily annoyed, complain a lot about very little and their worries seem to far outweigh their joys. Personally, I think all that…


Following on from the realisation that my lungs are filthy and if I don't give up the smokes soon I face a life of wheezing at best, off I trotted to see the charming Dr T.

Dr T, who's charming by virtue of the fact that he's less jaded than the other doctors in the surgery (in other words, he treats patients as if they're human beings with a right to NHS services rather than annoying fraudsters trying to gain sympathy for imaginary illnesses) promptly put me on potentially habit-forming drugs to get me off the evil weed. Something doesn't feel quite right about this but since I'm so pathetically grateful to have a doctor who's willing to give me more than two seconds of his precious time, I have acquiesced to his demands.

Anyway, this wonder drug is called Champix and promises to have me merrily chucking my smokes in the bin in no time. Or it will if I can get past the possible side effects, the highlights being abnormal dreams, nausea, flatulence, snoring, …