We appear to be being overrun by pests. We have a mouse that has taken up residence in the cupboard and ants attempting to conquer the living room. I’m not keen on any of these freeloaders, but the latest invader is truly beyond the pale. We have nits.
H told me first thing this morning that his head was itching and said “I hope I don’t have nits”. I laughed it off. Of course he didn’t have nits! After all, in seven years of parenting, school and nursery, we have never had to deal with the wretched little parasites. I think I’d sort of convinced myself that my kids had hair that was not appealing to the blood sucking bastards. How lucky for me! And how clever of us to breed nit resistant children.
Not having come face to face (or head to egg) with head lice since my youth, I wasn’t entirely sure what I was looking for as I rifled through my son’s coarse blonde mop. I couldn’t really see anything so I retreived the nit comb from the bathroom, purchased as a precaution a few years ago in anticipation of this day and, somewhat amazingly, still in the bathroom cabinet.
So, I did a quick head scrape with the nit comb and, low and behold, a few suspiciously egg shaped things pinged off H’s head and onto the comb. I tried again, just to be sure, and one of those horrible little bastard lice bounced out, looked up and I’m pretty sure it grinned at me.
I am sure you are now scratching your head. I’ve been having creeping feelings on mine ever since the discovery of the little gits. There is something so utterly repugnant about the idea of small biting insect things living in your hair that it sends you sort of mad. I keep thinking they are everywhere. Not just on my head but all over me.
I am well aware that having nits is a rite of passage as a kid, and as a parent too. I was rather smug about having avoided them to date. Smugness all gone in one creepy crawly blow. I am a nit virgin as a parent and I had no clue how to deal them. Entirely baffled by bastard biters.
So, my Wedneday morning started with a quick straw poll on Facebook amongst my parenting friends to see the best way of dealing with the fuckers, followed by a trip to the supermarket to spend £30 on two nit formulas: one 15 minute lotion for H before school, so they would let him in the door, and one overnight one for everyone. £30! Nit product manfacturers are making a killing (hopefully literally as well as metaphorically).
H was de-loused, which was a strangly satisfying feeling. Seeing a bathroom sink full of eggs and worse was utterly disgusting but, as they say, better out than in. So, I managed to get him to school, just an hour late, which I thought was pretty good going, all things considered. Well done me.
The pre-schoolers and I passed the day in a haze of tantrums and being run ragged, as per usual when living with Monster T, who really excelled himself today. Then evening came around, involving a much anticipated de-nit session for everyone. Wholesome family fun. I decided against putting the greasy lotion on Baby T. He doesn’t really have any hair as such, only a feather duster style fluff, so it was very easy to comb through with a bit of conditioner and declare him a nit-free zone. He did, however, earn himself a bedtime nearly an hour earlier than usual for being a stroppy git and getting in the way of the great head soak. One of the only things T is good about these days is bedtime, so he didn’t complain, bless him. Which is weird actually as I think it may have been the only thing he didn’t deem it necessary to complain about all sodding day.
Once T was in bed, I manically combed my own head until it bled looking for interlopers. I was about to sigh with relief and stop after the hundredth stroke when I spotted it. It was small but it was definitely one of those frankly appalling arseholes. I actually wanted to vom but I managed to hold it together. Same thing happened when treating M. I thought we were clear and no eggs came out but then one wiggly little fucker emerged on the comb.
So, the kids are finally in bed, massively unimpressed about having grease covered hair and having to sleep with pillows on their towels. It has been an entirely hideous day. Wednesdays are bad enough without a nit infestation.
I am on my third enormous glass of wine and my hair is coated in nit lotion so I’m looking about as good as I feel. Oh, and we currently have no carpet so the delightful original 1970s bum-hole brown Lino tiles that were revealed when the carpet was taken up earlier are staring at me. This isn’t improving my mood.
How was your day?