Nit in Denial

See what I did there? My witty pun. Although there is nothing witty about nits. They are disgusting.

I see Anna itching her head. I read the first What’s App message from the honest mum who confesses she has found lice in her child’s hair and is really so sorry if they’ve been passed on. I find the letter in Anna’s school bag informing parents to check their children’s hair. Was that Sam scratching the back of her neck? Then Emily tells me her best friend, who she sits next to in class and plays with all day long, says she has nits. I also note her mum did not confess on What’s App.

Now I am itching. I check Anna. No, no, no. I think we’ve escaped.

Sam’s class What’s App group has heard about Anna’s class. Several post in a coordinated pincer movement to try to out the nit spreader. Their energy would be better used outing the nits. As would mine, but I’m pretty sure we’ve escaped. Haven’t we?

Emily keeps scratching. I check her hair. Was that something moving? No it’s gone. Just my imagination. I am really itchy now. A day later Emily and Sam come home with a letter that there is an outbreak of nits.

I do another check. Reluctantly, just in case, I do a quick supermarket run when everyone is in bed. Do I have time to do this in the morning before school?

Morning and I reach for the phone, for a quick peek at messages. The parents on the What’s App groups are going nuts. Or nits.

‘If your child is scratching their head, there is only one explanation.’

‘Can’t bloody believe it, now Peter has lice too,’

‘Yep, lice in our house. Grrrrr F***.’

‘Yueeeeegh, the school must be infested if they can spread between classes like this.’

‘Who is not treating their children and letting these nasty little f***ers spread?’

I notice the word used. Children. Not child. Children. I feel the weight of many What’s App eyes landing their glare on me.

“Girls – into the bathroom. NOW!”