And my hairdresser was parting my hair with a comb…
It struck me that at my age…
Having my head checked for lice was the last thing I thought I’d be doing here.
“Mom, the kids were exposed to head lice,” my daughter informed me last night.
NOT what I wanted to hear after my two granddaughters had sat on my lap watching The Princess and the Frog a few nights ago.
And then in the middle of that very night…
I woke up out of a sound sleep scratching my head like a hound dog with fleas!
Lord!
Lice!
No!
Coincidently, I had a hair appointment that very next day.
“I don’t know how to ask this, but can you check me for lice?”
“SHH! Never say the word, ‘lice’ too loud at a hair salon.”
“Sorry. But my granddaughters may have given them to me.”
“Nope, you’re fine,” she finally said.
So, why was my head itching like crazy?”
“Paranoia.”
“Great! Well, not that I overreact, but great that I don’t have to shave my head.”
“There’s shampoo you would have used. No more shaving the head.”
Thank heavens!
Found out later that day, my granddaughters didn’t have lice either.
Which is great again...
For me.
Because while my grandkids are literally running, giggling germ factories…
And I can guard against getting sick by taking vitamin C…
And wearing a face mask if need be…
The thought of not hugging my grandkids…
Out of fear of some lousy bugs?
Never happen.
Some risks are worth taking.
Always, Em-Musing
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