I'm gonna sit at the welcome table, hallelujah
Everything is shade next to this glorious light. To celebrate, I'm having chicken snatchatori.
:::
Two days 'til Ireland and my sister and I can't stop discussing how we'll acquire complete and sacramental protection from head lice. In case you didn't know (which you probably did), she and I suffered several bouts of head lice as preteens. My mother, the Freakbot 2000, refused to use the teensy comb because our hair was too thick to survive such a scraping. Instead, she picked out each individual nit with her fingernails as we sat on the balcony under a hot sun. She stuck them to a piece of clear tape and typing that sentence just made me itch like hell. The infestation happened several times because we kept giving it to each other and to our friends, who gave it back to us. A short time after we rid ourselves of the Mephistophelian critters, Kendel came home from summer camp loaded with them and our relationship with her subsequently ended for a good four or five years. During high school, I washed my hair with the special shampoo on at least two occasions, just in case. Just because.
So Courtney and I agreed that hostel-hopping would be dangerous, if only to our souls. I purchased two zippered allergen-reducing pillow cases (dust mites are smaller than lice, right? Right?) and Courtney's set to bring two clean cases for an extra layer. I read that they're deterred by mint leaves, so I bought some mint shampoo and plucked mint leaves and dug up two blessed amulets from a priest's grave to fill with mint extract. I might also pick up some spray.
I told my mother our plans, hoping she'd laugh at such silly old phobias brought on by silly old memories.
No. She said, "You girls should pick up some DEET, too. And don't forget about ticks."
:::
Two days 'til Ireland and my sister and I can't stop discussing how we'll acquire complete and sacramental protection from head lice. In case you didn't know (which you probably did), she and I suffered several bouts of head lice as preteens. My mother, the Freakbot 2000, refused to use the teensy comb because our hair was too thick to survive such a scraping. Instead, she picked out each individual nit with her fingernails as we sat on the balcony under a hot sun. She stuck them to a piece of clear tape and typing that sentence just made me itch like hell. The infestation happened several times because we kept giving it to each other and to our friends, who gave it back to us. A short time after we rid ourselves of the Mephistophelian critters, Kendel came home from summer camp loaded with them and our relationship with her subsequently ended for a good four or five years. During high school, I washed my hair with the special shampoo on at least two occasions, just in case. Just because.
So Courtney and I agreed that hostel-hopping would be dangerous, if only to our souls. I purchased two zippered allergen-reducing pillow cases (dust mites are smaller than lice, right? Right?) and Courtney's set to bring two clean cases for an extra layer. I read that they're deterred by mint leaves, so I bought some mint shampoo and plucked mint leaves and dug up two blessed amulets from a priest's grave to fill with mint extract. I might also pick up some spray.
I told my mother our plans, hoping she'd laugh at such silly old phobias brought on by silly old memories.
No. She said, "You girls should pick up some DEET, too. And don't forget about ticks."
2 Comments:
Fuck that. Just bring along a bucket of turpentine and dip your head into it periodically.
Can lice live in turpentine? I should check that out first.
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