"Gorgeous hair is the best revenge." - Ivana Trump

So just two weeks ago I wrote an entire post about Ainsley's hair. How it often becomes a family project but I just can't let it go. Well, I think the universe was listening or reading. I mean, not really because of course God's the only one listening or reading my thoughts or this blog for that matter. Oh, that's such a good thing for so many reasons. The thoughts part not the blog, I mean, I wouldn't mind another reader besides my husband. Any old way, if I felt that the universe was a listener then it would make sense that after I tempted fate, I fell and fell hard.

There I was praising that thick mane of tresses of my little lov when....Wham! My cheeks were reddening as the preschool director told me that the "unexplained rash" they found on my darling's little ear was most likely from (gulp)... wait for it...head lice. Take me now, Jesus. Just come on that white horse and get me out of this office. Good Lord. Bugs? And bugs in my baby's hair? Suddenly the memory of what I called a "family project" to care for Ainsley's hair looked like a walk in the park. A really short walk on a really pleasant day. It's hard to feel like Mother of the Year when someone else is pointing out that your child would benefit from a flea dip.

I have, however, been more than a little encouraged to learn that the little vermin like some clean hair. So there you have it. All of the work I've been doing to keep the dear love's crown in sweet order was perceived as an open invitation for every louse in town. Signals crossed - buglets - wrong idea! Go back where you came from! I do so wish I knew where they came from so I could ensure that none of us ever go there again. Ever.


Anyway, I've learned a lot about home remedies and pesticide medicinal treatments and even "Lice Ladies" you can hire and pay hundreds of dollars to come in and search out the little devils who are no bigger than a grain of salt. Who are these people and how on God's sweet earth did they come to choose this profession? I mock but after all of the craziness I've tried over the last 24 hours I might be willing to give someone my car if they could guarantee that I'd never have to battle a nit again. But I have decided to take on this battle alone. Kill or be killed. That's the way we're rolling here.

I wanted to take a picture of the little love covered in the Saran Wrap concoction I made for her darling head. She wasn't keen. She didn't know I might have wanted to use it for my Home Bug Banning website one day. So she covered herself in one of the couch cushions that I had just vacuumed top to bottom. A process I had to repeat since the little infested dolly had touched it. Poor lamb is treated a bit like one with the Bubonic plague.

But I did manage to get a shot when she wasn't looking. Nothing gets past this Bug Boss. I don't know what that means but it helps me to feel stronger than these tiny foes. Even with her head wrapped in cling wrap she's as precious as the day is long. And this one was long, really really long.

And as long as we're talking about the universe, which I guess we kind of were -- I do sort of think I was supposed to get some kind of message today. As I walked across the Target parking lot to pick up DIY lice treatments (as every woman dreams to do) I stepped on something slippery. I look down to see a banana peel. Seriously, universe? Is that the best you've got? Where am I, on an episode of Laurel and Hardy?

I lean pretty heavily toward the germophobic side of things so this was enough to bring me to my knees. Which isn't all bad when you stop to think about it.