What a “Lousey” week this has been.

What a whirlwind of a week this has been.ir-leasing.ru

I’ve been still fighting migraines, which most of you probably know.  I visit a chiropractor very frequently in order to adjust the alignment of my neck, which has been out of whack for quite some time.  So when I let my hair down on the his table earlier this week, and I saw the strange look on his face, I knew right then that I had to explain why I smelled horrid, like pesticide. 

Let’s back up to Tuesday night when Austin came downstairs after his shower.  “I think I have lice.”

Fun fact #1: Did you know that the singular for “lice” is “louse?”  (I felt the need to explain so you would for sure understand the pun in the title of this post.  But I guess if you have to explain it, it isn’t that funny.  I digress….)

The boy has been known to come up with some crazy thoughts before, as all kids do, but this is not something I would mess around with.  “Carl, you have to check him.  I can’t get near it.  They will get me.”  I have extremely vivid memories of getting lice as a child.  My mom would sit on the blanket outside with me for hours on end, combing my hair strand by strand, just to get rid of those little bugs.  My hair was down to my waist, so this was no easy task.  But she did it.

“Yep, he has it.” Carl declared.  I cautiously leaned over his shoulder, also checking but making sure to remain at a distance.

In my pajamas already, I kicked the blankets off of me and hopped off of the couch.  “I’m going to the drug store.”

“Well we can wait till the morning….” Carl started.

Remembering my childhood days with lice, “No, we can’t.” I corrected him.  [Now is a good time to tell you that I didn’t CONSTANTLY have lice as a child, it was only a two- or three time ordeal.  But those two or three times really made an impression on me.]

Carl and I got dressed in semi-presentable clothing and took off in the car after asking Austin to go completely strip his bed and put everything in the wash.  We arrived home about twenty minutes later with egg removal gel, mattress and bedding spray, shampoo and a preventative spray.  Carl and I grabbed handfuls of large garbage bags and headed straight up to Austin’s room.  Austin, looking traumatized, was standing in the bathroom door.  I handed him his new shampoo and the fine tooth comb that came in the kit we bought.  I explained how to use it in the shower, and he hopped in.

Meanwhile, Carl and I gathered up every last stuffed animal, every last hat, pillow, blanket, and loose clothing near Austin’s bed and bagged it up.  (Eight garbage bags later….) I sprayed his bed and floor very liberally with the lice spray.  Just when we thought we were finished, Austin opened the bathroom door, close to tears.  He was horrified at the site of all the lice and eggs on the little comb we gave him.  For the first time ever, he begged, “Please just shave my head?”

And that’s how we wound up standing on our back patio at 10:30pm with one little light bulb shining on his head.  I shaved every bit I could, in the little light I had.  For doing it in the dark, it actually turned out okay. 

After being around his bedding and him, I was so sure I would get lice as well.  I soaked my hair in the preventative spray (pee-yew!), and then coated my hair in fine sections with hair spray (lice don’t like having sticky feet).  I threw it all up in a bun and then leaned back on the couch, knowing I’d done all I possibly could to not catch the plague lice.  Side note: when I retreated to bed a little later that night, I removed my clip from my hair and my hair remained tight up in a bun from all the hairspray.  That was pretty impressive.  Anyway….

It was the next day that my hair was still coated with all the sprays; when I had to explain to my chiropractor why I smelled like the pesticide section in a home improvement store.

Today is Friday.  Austin appears to be lice free (finally) but we are still taking every precaution necessary.  He is still getting sprayed twice a day to make sure the lice stay away, and his bedding is still getting sprayed as well.  Those little buggers are not welcome in our house!

Fun fact #2: Belle is a maltipoo…. meaning she is part poodle.  Poodles have hair, not fur.  Ergo, the thought crossed my mind that Belle could get lice.  So, we googled “Can poodles….” and google auto-filled in “get lice?”  Go ahead, try it.  Type in “Can poodles” and google will finish your sentence.

Fun fact #3: The answer is no, poodles can’t get lice.  At least not the same type that humans get.

To end, I’m sorry that this post is making you itch.  I have to assume that you are scratching your head because it’s an automatic response every time anyone mentions lice.  Our home is lice free now, and we will do everything in our power to keep it that way!

1 Comment

  • Rachel says:

    It does sound like it would be much easier to get rid of lice with a boy, because you can shave their head. Did Austin know about lice because other kids in his class had it too or had the teachers brought it up? Do they usually “attack” kids at a certain age, like chicken pox? I laughed at your plague comment and the title pun. One of the other Google suggestions was “can poodles read?”