just itching to tell a story...

...and since I'm a scout camp widow for the week, I'll take a risk and tell you one about my absent husband.

First, though, I found out yesterday morning that my kids are survivors. LICE survivors. That's great, right?! I was thrilled not to spot a single nit or bug. Home Free! (I thought) I asked my daughter to check me;

just to dot my proverbial i's.

Are you itchy? she asked. WHY. I demand.

Umm, because I think I found a nit, she reports. What?! (I know.) Where's the justice? Apparently I haven't eaten enough humble pie.

I wore a lovely pink shower cap around all Saturday afternoon, wafting through the house and yard in a vinegar soak. Followed that up with a tea tree oil bath and soak, and went to bed sporting a fresh shower cap, because my hair was plastered to my brains with enough coconut conditioner to lube the Queen Mary. (I will NEVER put vaseline on anyone's hair again.) I did get a stay-home-from-church-for-free pass on Sunday, however, and enjoyed the sounds of silence for a few hours.

SO. Mr. Dub claims that his lack of hair on top puts him in the no worries club. He's seen lice come, he's seen it go. Several times now. (Although we both marvel at the fact that we NEVER had a single experience with lice as children, or EVER, until we lived here. Would you like us to come lounge on your sofa for a few hours?) He makes little remarks about nit-wits, and goes happily on his way. I suspect this latest episode may have put him over the edge just a tad. Maybe it was the fact that he was sleeping next to a scrunchy plastic head. Subliminally, I think, he was worried. At 4:00 AM I was poked and prodded awake by the voice of a panicked man. He motioned for me to follow him into the bathroom, and asked please! several times. My four am eyes were having trouble focusing, and he says "I know your eyes can't see. I feel so itchy! Could you please look at my chest and under arms to see if I have lice?"

Let me just say (for the record) that I smiled. (Full-on laughing at 4 am would have required too much effort)

OH. And he got the all-clear. He's lucky that way.

Also, I have raised kind and considerate children, who take pleasure in sneaking blackmail photos from the upstairs bedroom window of their mom sporting a vinegar cap while working in the garden .

It's a glamorous life I lead...