Ever since we started school it seems like once a month we get an email home saying that a student has lice and everyone needs to take extra precautions to prevent it from spreading. Ugh. So far, we’ve been lucky enough to dodge the lice bullet, but it seems like with each outbreak it gets closer and closer to us and I know our days are numbered. (Scratch. Scratch.)
Adolpha is still in preschool where they play with dress up clothes and stuffed animals – AKA “Lice City.” Last year the school had to bag up all the dress up clothes and animals because their outbreak was quickly becoming an epidemic. Adolpha was so sad, but all the moms breathed a collective sigh of relief. No one wanted to be a nitpicker. (Although I hear there’s big money in professional nitpicking.)
And then we got the email that lice were in Gomer’s class. Great.
I told him he needed to be sure that he didn’t share combs or hats with anyone in his class. (What first grader brings a comb to school and offers it to his friend?? And yet I still warned him. This is how crazy I can get. Scratch. Scratch. I come by it naturally though. Yesterday my mom had an “unusually itchy” head and wanted me to check her. That’s how I find myself standing in my driveway in my pjs and rubber gloves digging through my mother’s hair and waving to the neighbors as they headed to work. Yeah, we’re pretty classy around here.)
He replied, “Is it because Maribelle has lice?”
“You know who has lice?” I asked. The emails never name names.
“Sure. Everyone knows it’s Maribelle.”
“How does everyone know?” I asked thinking there must be some breach of confidentiality somewhere in the staff. Ohhh, heads are gonna roll in that school office!
“She told us,” he said.
“Oh. Well, I guess that’s OK.” So much for breach of confidentiality.
“Yeah and now Iris has it too.”
“What? Two girls in your class? Just out of curiosity…where do Maribelle and Iris sit?” I asked.
“On either side of me.”
I got online and did some quick research and found out that lice are attracted to the cleanest heads of hair. Oh thank goodness! Gomer is a sweathog and has some of the dirtiest hair I’ve ever seen on a child. I think we’re going to be just fine. (Scratch. Scratch.)
Be sure to read my daily rants at People I Want to Punch in the Throat where you’re sure to laugh and/or might be offended (it’s where you can find my R-rated rants).
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Photo: David Castillo Dominici