Itchy Itchy Itchy

Shitty. Shitty shitty shit. And did I mention, SHIT?

Mama sent the kid back from Oklahoma with lice.

The kid's cousin had such a bad case of it that they apparently cut her hair off very short in an effort to get rid of it. Poor cousin hates it, she thinks she looks like a boy. If it's as short as they say, she probably does. Poor girl.

I suppose I should at least be grateful that Mama didn't try to deal with the kid's infestation in THAT manner.

However, she dropped the kid off to me on Saturday afternoon, on the doorstep of a kid's party that we were attending, assuring me that she did not think the kid had gotten lice. How fucking irresponsible is THAT?

Personally I didn't know what to look for. Never had it myself, never had to determine if anyone else did. So after the kid spent the last couple of days scratching, I went to a professional, who advised that unfortunately, yes, she has lice. Well, one lice and a few nits. Or would it be a lie? One lie, 2 lice? You know, like die and dice? Who knows. At any rate.

So we were having some fun last night, let me tell you. The kid's hair is almost down to her booty, as she would say, and so combing through every last bit of it with that itsy bitsy comb they give you was quite a chore. Took over an hour. And to my understanding I have to do it again in a week.

I swear to God I am going to kick Mama's ASS.

In fact, 2 ass kickings are in order. The kid only made it back with about 2/3 of the clothes I sent with her. Upon reviewing matters with a divorced-with-child friend, it seems that most parents maintain their own supply of clothes etc. and do not routinely shuffle backpacks of clothes back and forth on visits. No doubt I would have engaged in this practice except that Mama has no clothes for the kid at her place.

Oh THAT is SO going to change. Next time, the kid goes with nothing but the clothes on her back.

And maybe a showercap to keep her hair up in the entire visit.