For the last two months, we have been battling the plague of lice. First Ella. Then Zoe. Then Ella and Zoe. Then Zoe again. Now Ella. We’ve tried the Lice Lady‘s Pantene method and the Cetaphil Method. We’ve used the gucci of nit combs, the LiceMeister, and we’ve bagged and laundered and frozen and heated everything that has come within three feet of their heads. Several times. Every time I think we’ve finally got it licked, someone starts scratching again. Today, against my better judgement, we treated them both with Nix. I plan to subject the girls to the nit comb every other night this winter vacation, and re-poison them again in ten days. My girls have fine, tangly hair that is hard to comb out with an afro pick, so working my way through each hair with a comb whose tines are apparently glued shut with crazyglue is, in a word, maddening. And boy have I gotten mad.
This past year, one of my closest friends lost her ten year old son to cancer. Another local family lost their daughter to suicide after she was bullied by her high school classmates. One of my husband’s good friends has been out of work for over a year. Shitty things are going on in my backyard and even shittier things are going on around the world. The worst thing that has happened to us, bli ayin hara, are a few persistent cases of head lice. Something that, with appropriate tenacity, I can make all better.
So for the next ten nights, as I sit with a nit comb in hand, struggling to pass a camel through the eye of a needle, I’m going to count my blessings. One nit at a time.
And for those of you who were expecting a Christmas post, sorry, I have nothing new to say on the subject that either I or someone else hasn’t already said. Here’s a piece I wrote a few years ago about how we handle it. And here’s a piece Marjorie Ingall wrote this year that’s even better.
Seasons Greetings to all. May you too be blessed with head lice, and nothing more, in the coming year.
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