Do you believe in Fairy Tales?

Do you believe in Fairytales? I have to because of my daughter...and some kid's nightmare hair.

Yesterday afternoon, Kaila excitedly ran up to her bro. "Hey Madan! Guess what?!?! Mom and I had to go to my school today to pick up all my stuff to wash it. And, they checked my hair for...for...hey, Mom, what was that called again?"

I played dumb. I refused to tell her the word was lice. I could just see Madan going into Kindergarten the next day and saying, "Hey everyone. Did you know you can get bugs in your hair? Yeah, there's lice at my sister's school. Everyone had to wash their stuff and get their hair checked!"

Talk about a sure-fire way to get shunned in the new town. Luckily, there are no creepy-crawlies in Kaila's hair. But, just in case, I burned her bedding, all her stuffed animals and her jackets. Then, I tossed her in the dryer on the highest setting for 20 minutes. She shrunk and is only 12" tall right now. But, at least we know she doesn't have lice. On the plus side, I'm teaching her to point and yell, "Da plane! Da plane!" in case Fantasy Island makes a come back.

I can handle germs and sickness. I can handle sickness and puking. I can even handle needles -- with one exception. I nearly fainted watching Kaila's chin get stitched up. (My bad.) But, bugs and hair? Fuck no. That's too much for me. If this house gets infested, I'm calling it quits. We're going Hare Krishna on heads, burning the house to the ground and moving again. And, we'll keep moving until all the damn bugs are gone.

So. Gross.

I spent a good part of the day yesterday taking preventative measures. Aside from doing all the laundry I could, I went to the nearest hair salon and bought some bottles of Fairy Tales. Will the lice repellent work? Hell if I know, but I'll die trying. Today, I sent poor Kaila to school with locks supposedly lavished with rosemary, tea tree, lemongrass, cinnamon and anise. If you ask me, she smells like a friggin' citronella candle. At least the mosquitoes won't bother her.

I also spent a good part of the day going psychosomatic. In fact, as I write this, my whole body is starting to itch. Oh, son of a bitch!