Ha! whaur ye gaun, ye crowlin ferlie?

Robert Burns called it spot on.  There's nothing like the shock of watching an "ugly, creepin, blastit wonner, / Detested, shunn'd by saunt an' sinner" crawl out of a lady's bonnet at church.  Unless you compare it to finding one on your six year old daughter and that one leads to what can only be hundreds.

Yes, sports fans, the girl has lice.

Beware, this post has the possibility to quickly devolve into the use of juvenile and uninventive language.

The girl has been itching her head a lot.  For weeks actually - Insert Mom of the Year award here, please.  I checked her for lice, I really, really did.  I never saw anything and assumed it was because we had shifted shampoos and/or maybe she wasn't doing a good job of rinsing it out of her hair when she showered. 

So, I finally let her do what she's been asking for months on end.  We cut off her "Rapunzel hair."  I thought for sure she'd have cutter's remorse, but she kept that silly grin on the entire time and said, "Told ya."  She loves it and it's adorable.

Here's K and her new cut and a picture of me around the same age.  Scary, huh?

Anyway, as the woman was cutting it, we both remarked on a rash of some sort on the nape of her neck, but it didn't scream "LICE!" to me, but it surely should have to her, don't you think?  Regardless, home we came to endure another two weeks of scratching.  (God, I'm so stupid.)

Monday we were playing outside and she was scratching again.  I pulled her over and looked at her head some more for dandruff or more rash or SOMETHING, and boy did I find something, that's for sure.  I bet that if I would have looked in sunlight I would have seen them all along.

We went to the dr for a confirmation and the boy and I were scoured as well.  We're shockingly clean.  It's shocking to me since we all share a hair brush and wallow all over each other on the couches and beds and everything.  *insert tirade here*  The more I read about "the facts of lice" the more I realize that no one knows anything.  Each site and pamphlet contradicts each other.  Do this, don't do that, this kills them, this does not, pets can't get them, pets can carry them, put stuffies and pillows in plastic bags, plastic bags don't help.  It's beyond frustrating. 

I know it's not en vogue with the times, but the use of pesticides doesn't bother me.  At this point, I don't care if the treatment kills me, I'm killing you, dammit.  So, I bought what the dr recommended and I spent two hours that night treating her hair only to realize that the chemicals didn't necessarily kill the lice so much as piss them off and make them run for purchase elsewhere.  Seems for every dead louse I combed out, there were three running for glory.  I picked and picked and then reversed it and picked and picked again...only to look down at myself and find them crawling on my arms and clothes.  Cue the Benny Hill run.

So whereas I wasn't infested before, I'm likely infested now.

I got them all.  I was confident.  I sent her to bed, checked her Tuesday morning and found MORE LIVE bugs.  I retreated her and did the process all over again.  Later that afternoon, I couldn't find a single bug.  I did another perusal before bed - FOUR MORE LIVE BUGS.  It's driving me nuts.  I've washed everything twice over in hot, hot, hot and treated the couches etc.  I'm not thinking they're in the couches because then the rest of us would be infested, right? 

Grrr.  Thank goodness for neighbors.  I ran out of detergent and since I washed her car seat covers, I didn't want to put her infested self back in one to go to the store, so my neighbor gave me her bottle and then was kind enough to spend a half hour checking me to make sure I was still clean.  How do you thank your neighbor for grooming you like a chimpanzee?

Veggies and fresh canned salsa.

So, long story longer, I'm headed down to see what the damage is this morning. 

The morning comes early.  Oh, and Mr. Louse?  "Gae somewhere else and seek your dinner /On some poor body."  You're not wanted here.  Sweet gardening dreams.