The Little Visitors

Many times we have had notes come home to say check your children for nits, but we have been blessed for two years, as none of them wanted to visit our home. Probably because poo smells are normal, and the furniture looks like it should have a sticker on it saying ‘skip ready’. I have asked my wife many times “What exactly am I even looking for?” She usually points to my nieces head when they have ‘little visitors’ and says “Can you see them?” Usually after the first three of four times of saying “No” I can tell that one more time of saying no and my wife will look like a green monster from a drain advert. I usually just make noises and follow up with “Well I never!”

Today during bedtime story time, I didn’t pick up straight away that my little girl was continually scratching her head, until the second page when I asked her to stop and she announced “I can’t Daddy, it’s super itchy.” Well at that point I started screaming for my wife as in my mind they were marching across the bed and now all over me like a germs advert. I was being ever alert in case they started crawling over me. Upon inspection my wife announced we had ‘little visitors’, and she would go to the local supermarket. This put me in a state of panic, as it was already late, and my wife usually goes to the supermarket during daylight hours and comes back at night time! I said to my wife on the stairs “Now you promise straight there, and straight back!” My wife laughed and said she would go straight to the correct aisle and come straight back. Now you may laugh but many, many times my wife went for one item, and after many hours, even the kids ask “Can we track Mummy online and see where she is?” I am fairly sure the tracking company must be fed up with our endless requests, and when my wife comes back she gives the same old story she was as quick as she could be. Sorry my keen bean super shopper, I have seen governments been elected, and dissolved quicker than your ‘straight there and straight back’. I am sure that very soon the car park company will ask if my car needs a season ticket as it could be cheaper!

My wife duly came back, but not before I had exhausted my bedtime entertainment routine. My entertainment schemes are so good I should have earned a famous red coat for entertaining. I put my son to bed for the fourth, or possibly the fifth time. Eventually the batteries wore out, and I heard a silent snore. As I came downstairs it looked like a scene from a 70’s hairdressers as all that was needed were a set of rollers in my little girl’s hair. My wife started combing my little girl’s hair, and as she rubbed the weird contraption on kitchen roll, I again got a lesson in nits, with my wife saying “Look, can you see it? Look, there, right there.” Again I know they must have been there but I wonder if only certain people can see them, a bit like garden fairies that only children can see, but adults cannot. I was not blessed as I really wanted to see this army, but all I could see was kitchen roll, and before you ask my eye sight is perfect according to a magical lady in the opticians that makes me wear glasses with lenses so thick during my eye test, I could use them to take photos on the moon.

As we packed my little girl to bed I genuinely thought it was all over until my wife announced can you do me. What!? I cannot even see the critters, let alone know how to fight them. I did try and plead to be let off the hook, but my wife put a bottle in my hands and said just spray, oh and wash your hands at the end. Whoa there tiger, what happens, or more to the point what does this chemical do to my hands? As I sprayed the hair, what can only be described as an oil slick appeared on my wife’s hair, and looked like the times when oil spills on the sea, and birds come out with matted hair. My wife went upstairs, said she had showered and the critters had left the building. Must be the fresh water that did it my little supermarket shopper you should try it a bit more often (ouch, yes that was my wife editing this blog and kissing my head with her hand).

My wife said she had to write a note to school, saying we had had little critters, and being the son of an undertaker I did wonder if it should be a condolences card, with ‘May The Critters Rest In Peace’ scribed on it, as they were just subjected to an oil slick of petrol company proportion. Night night Dorset Dad, may the critters rest in peace.