I find myself ignited by boredom. Plus I have a terrible need to stop myself from scratching. I don’t like to harp on about things but this is so disgusting that I need to share so that I can incite horror and sympathy.
TomBoyNitGirl hereby becomes HeadTeemingWithTheFeckingBuggersGirl.
When I mentioned it previously I thought that I was exaggerating. I thought that it couldn’t be all that bad because I hadn’t actually seen the creatures in her hair.
But now I have.
Joy of joys. And horror of horrors.
We’re not talking nits. I’m not even entirely sure that we’re talking lice. Well, we are talking lice but it would seem that these creatures are mutant lice. I looked it up on the Net when I arrived home. You shouldn’t be able to see lice. There are supposed to be very few lice and once you part the hair any louse that is there will scarper so as to hide itself and this makes them difficult to spot. Today I saw. And I recoiled in horror. We were in the middle of Information Technology. It was a 1:1 lesson. I glanced. I saw. I was almost sick.
She is infested. Literally infested. Why I haven’t seen them before I really don’t know. Each louse is only supposed to be about 2.5mm long. These are about half a centimetre long. At least. And they are crawling all over her head.
And all I can think is how yesterday she leant across me to get something. About how I shared my umbrella with her when we popped to the shop. About how my head itches …
Tomorrow I will go to Boots and buy a nit comb. I am so paranoid that she has given them to me. I don’t see how anyone can’t get them being in such close contact. There are too many … surely some of them feel the need to escape and find a new host with more room to play.
If we were a mainstream school she wouldn’t be allowed in until she’d proved she was doing something about it. I feel that I’ve jumped into a time machine and lost a hundred years.
Nits? Just a few? Yes.
Lice? I can live with that.
Teeming with them? Not a strand of hair safe from the scurrying legs? Eugh. Bring in the fumigators. I wonder if I can refuse to work with her.
I’m sorry to go on. I just can’t get my head round how many she has and how any parent can let their child become so infested. And how any child can become so infested in this day and age.
I’ll shut up now. I’ll scratch myself in private.
And I’ll think of more pleasant things to relieve the boredom whilst The Blokey watches Battlestar Galactica. Or whatever it’s called …
01. If you could have a compartment (like a glove compartment) installed on your person, where would you have it installed and what would you keep in it (other than things you would keep in your wallet or purse)?
In my belly. I’m sure that my guts could make way for it. I’d keep the smell of cigarettes [I’ve started craving badly despite it being six months exactly since we gave up this Sunday coming], a bottle of Vodka [for those queasy moments], loose change [it always comes in useful], and a selection of books because they don’t fit in my bag. Or is it that I forget to put them in my bag?
02. A local university has asked you to teach a class about the one thing you know the most about. What would you be teaching and what would the name of the course be?
Um … probably something general about religion. It would be called Katie’s Cultural Ponderings. And laptops wouldn’t be allowed. I never had a laptop at uni. I think they make students a bit lazier [apologies to any students or former students who have/had laptops … I’m just jealous].
03. Commercials … they can make us laugh or can annoy the heck out of us. Tell us about your favourite commercial and/or a commercial you simple loathe.
There’s a wonderful one out at the moment with a catchy little tune and it’s animated and it’s advertising a car. I think. It has something to do with diesel. I can never remember which adverts are advertising what products. I usually remember that it might be a particular product. Like a car. But I can rarely remember which particular brand until it makes it clear. Adverts are truly lost on me.
04. If we were to tiptoe into your room while you were sleeping, what position are we likely to find you in, on what side of the bed and are you a snorer, drooler, a sleep talker or sleep walker?
I tend to sleep on my belly. I tuck my hands underneath me. Or sometimes I spread myself out but The Blokey doesn’t like that. I twist and turn a lot as the sheets and duvet tend to reveal in the morning. I can’t have my head under the covers because it makes me think I’m going to die [it’s about the only time I ever suffer from claustrophobia]. I talk a lot in my sleep. Apparently. Last night I was talking about fish. Goodness knows why.
05. “Snips and snails and puppy dogs tails – that’s what little boys are made of. Sugar and spice and everything nice – that’s what little girls are made of.” Besides those things mentioned above, what are some of things you personally might be made of?
What’s a ‘snip’? I thought it was ‘slugs’ and snails? I’m made of Marmite, tea in bone china cups, marshmallows, complex and intricate puzzles, snippets from books, and goldfish. Why goldfish? Because I have the memory of one. And I can make a mean goldfish face.
That cheered me up and stopped me itching. Thanking you kindly. Tomorrow we collect our new car and wave goodbye to the old one. I’ll be sad to see her go. I’m not even really attached to her. She’s only a car …
please God bless the car and let her new owners be loving and kind xxx Elsabeth