Wednesday, February 6, 2013

Actually, it should be CDO

Jack's speech therapist is a very nice, very enthusiastic woman who does not share my anxieties.  I learned this today when she brought out a bag of hats to play with.  "Off!"  "On!"  "Hat!" she repeated over and over, and I heard her, but in my head she was saying, "Lice!  Lice!  LICE!"

I don't know why I didn't say, "Woah, woah, I'll go get some of his hats."  Because God knows how many heads those hats have touched, and I internalized the rule about not ever sharing hats or combs with anyone.  Lice love a clean head, you know.  They do.  And my head is clean.  And so is Jack's.  Let us then use our non-licey hats, if you please.

But I didn't have the nerve.  Instead I cringed as she instructed Jack to put a hat on Mama's head.  And I pretended to sneeze it off.  Have mercy.

I've been itching ever since.

Have I ever told you about the night before my wedding?  I worked with kids, then, in a residential facility, and the week before my wedding we had a lice outbreak.  I had the nurse check me several times a day, because I was just SURE that I was going to get it.  Even though she never saw a single nit, I spent the night before our wedding combing Rit through my extremely long, thick hair.  It took me until 2 am.  I was not going to go down as the bride who gave her entire guest list lice.

I never found a single nit, and the next day the hairdresser used enough shellac on my hair to choke a horse, let alone a bug.

I have issues.  Serious issues.

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