King Tut Has Lice Too

Stitches and lice, the two childhood rites of passage I always hoped my kids would skip. Well, I can cross one off the list. In case you've never had the joy of picking crawling bugs out of your child's hair, I will let you share in my experience.

It starts like this. You're at the museum with your friend and your kids. The girls are trying on Egyptian hats. You turn to your friend and say, "Well, when they get lice, we'll know exactly where they got them." And you laugh. Ha ha ha.

That night, at dinner with your family and your husband's business partners, your daughter starts itching her hair.

"Mom, my hair itches."

"No it doesn't."

"Yes, really, it itches."

"No. It doesn't."

"Seriously."

"Your head really itches?"

"Yes."

"For real?"

"Yes."

Sighing, you take her to the bathroom. You part her hair and there it is--a little louse crawling around your daughter's hair, about to wreck havoc on your life. You take a deep breath. You notice a single fruit fly, sitting on the bathroom mirror. You think about fruit flies and lice and temporarily consider yourself a failure as a mother. But you don't really have time for contemplation. You yell to your husband in the other room, "You need to go to the drugstore. Now!"

When you emerge from the bathroom to tell him and his business partners what happened, you all start scratching your heads. This is what happens when you even think about lice, you start itching.

You spend the evening rubbing toxic shampoo into your daughter's scalp. The lice could care less. They crawl around unfazed, coated in lice shampoo. You imagine their conversation. "Mmm, I love this tasty shampoo." "Oh yes, this brand is my favorite. Even better than scalp." You spend the next hour picking the lice out of her hair because clearly the shampoo is not doing anything. The rest of the evening is spent washing sheets in hot water.

The next morning you remember that your niece had lice and you call your sister hoping for reassurance. She tells you that sucks, it really really sucks. Not the reassurance you were looking for, but it's always good to know the truth. You tell her that your daughter got lice at the museum yesterday and you had picked nine out of her hair. She tells you that your daughter didn't get lice at the museum, she gave lice at the museum. She couldn't have had nine already unless that hat was teaming with lice. You feel momentary guilt thinking of all the dozens of kids who tried on the Egyptian hats after your daughter that day. Then, following your sister's advice, you buy an electric comb.

When you are done electrocuting lice, you call the school to tell them that your daughter won't be coming in that day. They tell you that at least four other kids are out that day too, all with lice. This isn't comforting. The last thing you need is to get rid of lice and then get them back again.

When you hang up the phone, you ask your daughter if she'd consider shaving off all of her hair. She isn't amused. You head back to the bathroom for another comb-through, and suddenly have a deep understanding of the expression "go over it with a fine-toothed comb."

Four days, twelve comb-throughs, and countless loads of laundry later, you breathe a small sigh of relief because your daughter's head is no longer itchy and so far your other daughters' hair remains bug-free. You are hopeful that you can put this whole experience behind you.

And that, my friends, is the story of lice. If it sounds like good times, then by all means go about your usual business. Maybe even take your kids for some hat-trying-on at the Denver Art Museum. But, if you'd rather keep your experience with lice limited to reading about it on a blog, I strongly suggest going through your kids' hair with a fine-toothed comb just to check, especially if you live in Boulder. Checking obviously won't prevent them from getting lice, but it's always good to catch it early. Also? Ponytails and buns are always good looks.