Two weeks ago Friday, we went to lovely party.
There was wine and Wii and children running about. There was laughing and hummus and delicious cupcakes.
All good and wonderful things.
On Monday morning, I was in the office while the host of that party received a phone call from the school of his children.
He, not being a native English or French speaker, turned to the office after he hung up with the school.
"Is your daughter OK?", I asked solicitously.
"She has fleas?", he stated - somewhat puzzled.
I stared at him. My teacher instinct kicked in. "Lice?", I offered. "She has lice?"
"Yeah, thats it - Lice"
My head began to itch. Instantaneously. In fact, I suspect some of you are itching simply READING this.
Then, I recalled my impossibly curly haired child rolling on the floor with his long blonde straight haired child. The same long blonde straight hair child who spent quite a bit of time in my lap as we giggled and watched her brother and Emily play Wii.
Then I thought about my spouse. With his dreadlocks. And his natural hypochondria.
I offered to check his daughter at the office. I have expertise in this area. Years of teaching and living in child care centers makes you a savvy lice spotter. I have calmed many a parent down as I showed them what they were looking for, what to do, what to use, how to comb the eggs out. Reassuring them that it was not do to a dirty home or dirty child - quite the opposite, in fact. Lice LOVE nice clean heads - best real estate around, and WHO doesn't want to build their home on the best real estate available?
Sure enough - there they were. In full, lice-esque glory. Doing their lice thing.
And theres me. Staying calm. Trying not to itch my head. Trying to think of how I am going to break this news to my husband who is perpetually coming up with new diseases what he is sure he has. Trying to figure out a way to let him KNOW ( since I have my late class and won't be home until 7:30 or 8) but not make him lose his shit and begin some kind of bleaching extravaganza.
In hindsight, I shouldn't have left the message on his cell phone. But oh well.
The good news? We seem to have been spared.
The bad news? Terrance keeps checking my hair. Because he doesn't know what he is looking for, he spends the whole time making dire air sucking in noises as he pulls out lint and other NOT LICE stuff from my hair. And let me tell you - nothing makes you randomly itch your head than the suggestion that you Could have lice.
In fact, you are all scratching right now - admit it.