Here I sit in Starbucks, laptop at a small round table. I have the weekend to myself. An afternoon movie is planned and a morning of dinking around in the sunshine unashamedly accomplishing very little. It's my day.
It was a buggy sort of night. Carrie, who spends most of her time with adults except when she visits her dad on the weekends, had a little problem.
It seems that one of the children she was hangin with had head lice and now the little critters have taken up residence in her beautiful, long thick hair. If you have ever had to deal with them, and who hasn't if they have children in school, the process of ridding them from the hair is a long drawn out affair.
The stuff most people use is called RID. At almost 20.00 a pop for a box of this special stuff, it gets expensive. It has to be done more then once which makes getting rid of the visiting uninvited little guests as expensive as evicting someone from a rental property.
We use alcohol. Yep, 70% Isopropol. Alcohol is bactericidal, meaning it kills. At the hospital we always keep our pockets full of alcohol swaps. We wipe the phone mouthpiece of the desk phone before using it. Better safe then sick.
Pillows and bedding gets liberally sprayed. Carrie got sprayed multiple times and April and I saturated our hair in alcohol. Better be safe then buggy!
The next step was to spray vinegar in the hair to dissolve the glue like substance used by the nits to hang onto the hair. Poor Carrie suffered through our administration's until we had to run the little metal tight pronged comb thing down her locks. After sitting quietly for 45 minutes, she had enough of our attention and became tearful. As the tears slid down her cheeks she asked if she could go to my house with me when her mom was done. What could I say but "Sure. We are almost done. I'll take you with me when I leave." and that's how she ended up at my house again last night. She missed her T Ball practice and the trip to her dad's after the game.
Today she will go to her dad's. She will return on Sunday and we have plans. "Nanny, you know what happens with I come back on Sunday?" she says with a big grin on her face. I confess. I was stumped and she was impatient with my lack of knowledge.
"Nanny, it's Easter!"
Visions of colorful eggs, chocolate and bunnies denotes Easter for Carrie. We may make a visit to the pool at the apartment complex where her sister lives, weather permitting.
This morning she stood in the shower while I bathed and washed her hair. I wrapped her in towels and we finished her morning dressing ritual in front of the TV in the living room.
Before leaving, I grabbed the spray bottle with the alcohol and spritzed her hair again. Better safe then buggy.