Bugs

There's nothing like a Sunday night spent scraping lice out of the small fry's hair. I was convinced she didn't have them, but a head full of cheap conditioner and a few strokes of the lice comb and there they were. Bastards.

Friday night she and Elle had dropped into a friends up the road. Sass must have been scratching because friend's mother donned glasses and dragged her into the light and declared lice. That night they foamed up (I prefer just conditioner...) and swanned around in the green shower caps that come with the treatment. I still wasn't convinced. But I've clearly been proven wrong. And clearly the chemicals didn't work.

I'm never sure then if I have them or I just go out in sympathy. I just start scratching. My mother, who lives interstate, says she starts scratching every time I tell her the kids have lice - so that's got to be psychosymatic. Lucky I  have a hair appointment of Friday and give my hair colour is complete and toxic, if I do have any, even my hairdresser agrees they won't survive that!

Years ago, Jaz and Elle were going through a period of infestation. It didn't occur to me to check George - he had a buzz cut and about half a centimetre of hair. But one day I saw him having a bit of scratch. I conditioned and combed and.....OMG!!! For such little hair, I've never seen so many big, fat bugs and middles sized ones and tiny baby bugs..... the whole spectrum. "George, you've got a metropolis," I yelled in fright. "They've had time to build cities and roads and shopping malls and basketball stadiums - they've probably elected a mayor - your head is teeming!!"

I heard that there is a chemist here in Malvern who swears he funded his fancy-pants beach house on the lice of this suburb. Not hard to believe.

So, back to Sunday. I felt obliged to text Sass's BF's mum down the road. The girls had spent much of the weekend together so forewarned is forearmed. Her response?  "SHNIT!!!"