The Louse-y Day

It’s not supposed to be this way, is it? You’re not supposed to feel better when met with an upsurgence of stress?

Maybe I crave change, ANY change, but when a setback came, I felt kind of glad. Content. Not saying I’ll feel that way next time, but when my droopy-lidded, sunlight-dreading eyes caught sight of a well-defined mission, I awoke, ready.

It was during the biggest chore of the morning: brushing the hair of my protesting, sensitive-scalped six-year-old that I met the uninvited: the six-legged grain-of-rice-like creature and her friends.

“Oh no.” I said, spotting one, and then another.

“Awww, it’s cute!” my daughter said.

“This is bad,” I said, quickly locating “lice” on the internet.

“So cute,” she said again.

“We must kill it. They are bad bugs–they should not be in your hair.”

“No school today?” she asked.

“Nope, no school today.” I answered as I called in.

“Yeah!” she said.

That day, she sat pretty still while I oiled and combed her hair in the bathtub; nor did she complain on the trip to Walmart to buy the lice-killer shampoo. Not much else mattered anymore. Kill the lice. Sure there was reading and writing and cooking dinner. But killing the lice was job one.

Thankfully, I was geared to handle this little bump in the road.

Someday I’ll have a job outside the home. And hopefully there will be no bugs in sight.

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