The battle of the louse turned me into an obsessive washer. Any item that may possibly have come in contact with the insidious beast was hurled into my Maytag until the belt literally screamed for reprieve. Suddenly the thought of carefree days slipping and sliding by without having bathed the kids seems almost neglectful, abusive. New resolutions formed swiftly. These kids were in need of serious hygiene!, routine! I must discipline myself into some predictable schedule of washing, washing, WASHING!
But not tonight, for TONIGHT we shall celebrate my fascinating husband's 39th birthday with some dear friends, with candlelight, fine food, wine, and conversation, and the rare privelege of a baby-sitter. AAAH...Two licks into my baked potatoe,a few laughs into comfortable (uninterrupted) conversation and the phone rings with tears and fears and tales of a bleeding baby boy.
After washing, washing the blood off Sammy's head, a friend drives us to Emergency. The Doctor snips hair away from the wound (worked so hard at keeping his beautiful blonde hair, not wanting the lice to feel they had the upper hand....) Doctor has an alternative to the traditional stitch: a form of medical crazy glue (was Humpty aware of his options?). Doctor says "this may sting a little, but will hold the wound. Keep an eye on Little Boy, keep him safe, the glue should stay and do its work. Do not WASH him for at least three days......"!!
1 comment:
Joyce,
Playing clarinet in front of a crowd? singing with your hubbie? Blogging for heaven's sake! This is fun to be a witness to.
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