Ticks Aren't Lice

You know how I've written about how I loathe, can't stand, and otherwise don't feel friendly toward ticks?  Ticks are nothing now.  They're laughable. 

Because ticks aren't lice.

My neighbor down the street whose family is our second family here in this place over a thousand miles from our homeland, she called me on Monday to tell me her kindergarten daughter had been complaining about an itchy head as she got ready for school.  This kindergarten daughter is one of my kindergarten son's best friends.  We'd had her over every day of the weekend to play.  Do you know what I do with kids - mine and those who come over to play?  I rub their heads.  Whenever they come up to talk to me, I stroke their hair.  Not because I think, "Gosh I think I'll stroke their hair."  But because I just do it.  Oh how that has haunted me for the last four days. 

So my friend looked through her daughter's long, dark hair Monday morning and found lots and lots and lots of white eggs.  She told me she was keeping her kindergartner home from school.  She was going to get a hair treatment and comb at the store and go through her daughter's hair, piece by agonizing piece to remove the eggs.  Then she was going to do the same to her other four daughters' hair just to be safe.  And she was going to wash all the bedding.  And clean all the toys.  And wash all the car-seat covers.  And clean out the car.  And vacuum the house and the couches.  And wash all the clothes.  And give herself a treatment.  Although she would have to find a homemade remedy because nursing mothers (she has a 6 week old) can't use the store-bought chemical treatment.  And she was going to hope that she didn't miss anything because if you miss one of those minuscule louse, it can lay fifty eggs in one day.

Is your head feeling itchy yet?

Mine was.  Before she could finish her to-do list, the top of my head was distinctly itchy and my heart was rushing the blood right through.  I didn't want to do all that laundry.

I've gone through moments of casual confidence that I'm louse free, and then times of suspecting my horrible life-long case of dandruff is actually the infinite eggs of a louse.  My neighbor looks like she is walking through the bottom of purgatory.

You know, I'm starting to think, maybe bald is beautiful.