Yeah, it's war at the Wangs (as I shadow box!)

When I was in the 4th grade, there was such an outbreak of this issue that any sort of school assembly was cancelled to make sure no kids mingled.  You were not allowed to exchange hats and if your hair was long, it was a good idea to put it up in a ponytail.  (Sucked to be a boy)  Every few days, each child was checked..if your head is starting to itch right now..you know that I am talking about lice.  While I never got it as 9 years old, that 1982 winter at Morrison Memorial was not great.  Everyone would constantly be checked and you knew the ones who caught it because they were sent home immediately.  I believe this anxiety was my first foray into the phrase "pitting down to my ankles."

Let's flash foward to August of 2008 shall we? Little Laurel (2 and a half at the time) was sitting on my lap.  I am fiddling with her hair while my inner voice starts:
(Why does she have little pieces of crud like rice stuck to her hair?)
( And they won't shake off either..)
(what is th...Holy Shit.  This is lice/nits!!)

I can handle this.  Laurel and I walk to our local CVS and get some lice shampoo.  (And I get a Snickers to soothe the sting of humiliation.  I know it shouldn't bother me but it's lice, God damn it!!)  Just wash, clean some things around the house..all set.

Not all set..with nits, they don't just flake off with a little shampoo washing.  These little buggers have to be pulled off, strand by strand.  And let me remind you that Laurel was just a smidgen over 2 at the time.  I realized that I needed to bribe her with sugar and lots of TV to get her to sit still so I can nit pick. AND all carpets need to be vacuumed, all bedding, clothing either washed or bagged for several days.  (Bagging soft items suffocates those little nits dead!  Yeah, it's war at the Wangs (as I shadow box!))

I couldn't send Laurel to daycare with nits, so for a few days, it was just Laurel, several packets of fruit snacks, Disney Channel and me picking nits.  Ching said he had some really important meetings that he couldn't miss. (Freakin' Ass..yeah, that Valentine's Day love has worn off.) I thought I could get this problem fixed in a day..nope..nothing like calling in to work saying the infestation is still around.

Never had I wanted Laurel to be a boy.  We would have buzzed her head.  Even at 2, I wouldn't do that to her.  We just cut her hair very short..telling her how chic she looked.  Thankfully, she bought it and was still so beautiful.

The worst part was the small daycare that I used.  This daycare that I love assumed that I spread the nits.  Because I quickly fessed up first and said Laurel had it, caused other mom's to look at their kids (who also had nits up the yin yang).  Apparently, my kid was the cause because everyone wanted to know how I got it and gave it to their kids.  While I loved most of these moms a few days ago prior to LICEGATE, at this point, they all had the word TWAT tattooed on their forehead.

There was one mother who was completely incapacitated by the whole situation.  Her pinched up face and voice could barely deal with the issue.  Her vanilla turd daughter with barely a pulse just looked up at me.  Since the mom brought her to the daycare, I assumed she was nit-free.  Oh, no..the mom apparently wasn't familiar with a Google Image search engine.  She didn't know what to look for in regards to nits or lice.  She brought her daughter at the precise time that I dropped off (and you know I am prompt).  This mom wanted me to check, not only her daughter but her.  It was 7:40 and I wanted to do a vodka shooter (it's 5:00 somewhere, right??).  The daycare provider pleaded with me with her eyes and I said I would check (quickly, because I had to get the freak to work because I had the most awesome director at the time.)  The little girl was fine.  The mom was another story.  She didn't have lice but instead had this massive mole on her scalp that made me recoil and cry for my mom.  It was gross and I was so pleased that Laurel bit her daughter (twice) in the past.

The irony of this whole situation..my hair.  I had hair that went half way down my back (I know, at my age, it should have been cut several inches).  My scalp inched so badly and Ching like that pinched up mom couldn't figure out if I had nits too.  (He didn't have it..freaker!) So I had to haul my ass to my HMO, pay the co-pay to have some doctor check my scalp.  I didn't have it..but I itched for days.

I have a colleague that is petrified of lice.  While I suffered, and got through it..my inner voice cackles like a bitch.  (Yeah, it's like that.)