Oh Holy, I mean, Lousey Hell
I got that call. If you are parent, you know the one. That call from school.
“Come get your kid.”
uh!?! who threw up? who has a fever? but they were all healthy and happy when I dropped them off this morning.
Mother-of-effing-pearl. Can’t be. They’re just paranoid….
Oh, but no. Not paranoia this time! Jackson is a walking parasitologist’s laboratory.
We’ve sat through the Nix treatment, and now I’ve just begun the combing step. This is going to take all evening. I have saved a few in a little plastic container with alcohol. (I’m a real nerd, okay? I have a spider sitting in another container. Someday I’ll pin it.)
Oh, and guess what? Olivia had a poopy accident while I was washing Jackson’s hair. Yup. Yellow smush on the couch in my office. So while he was sitting in the tub, I threw her smelly butt in the shower and hosed her down. She is all clean and lice free, would like to keep her that way.
I have given Jackson explicit instructions about where NOT to put his head. No laying on Mommy’s bed (yay), or his bed, or rolling around on the rug. Thank God for my leather sofa! He has instructions from me to play captain of the couch for the next 24 hours.
Well, I’ve got to go. I’ve got some NIT PICKING TO DO!