ThePinkThing's been scratching her head for a few weeks. I'm not stupid, so the first thing I thought of was lice. I (being a researchy kinda person) looked up lice is diagnosed and followed the instructions. I saw nothing, nothing I tell you. I looked behind her ears and at the back of her head but didn't see nits or bugs. I changed her shampoo and conditioner, I changed our laundry detergent, I even had her use Neutrogena's T-Gel a few times. But she still kept scratching.
I must be blind or something. Since TheHusband was going to TPT's pediatrician's office anyway to fix one of their computers, I sent her along for an evaluation. (TH fixes the computer, KidDoc fixes TPT's itchy head, right? It's a fair trade.) KidDoc apparently saw the nits right away. Eeeeuw. And gross. (Yes, yes, I know that I'm a Brain Doctor, and the sight of brain slices fazes me not in the least. But ooogey bug eggs in my kid's hair gross me out, okay?) When I told KidDoc that I had looked and didn't find anything, there was silence on the phone. I know he was thinking "God save me from these adult specialists who can't even diagnose something basic..."
I followed KidDoc's instructions (Rid shampoo, followed by Prell shampoo, followed by some serious hair inspection/combing). I stripped the beds, washed all of the bedding in hot water, dried it on high, put the pillows in the dryer for 20 minutes on high (Oooo, toasty!), washed the towels, and vacuumed the carpet in her room. I washed everything again before nit-picking session number 2, as well.
I was also instructed to put any stuffed animals she sleeps with in a plastic bag. Note that TPT is not terribly fond of stuffed animals, which is strange considering how stuffed-animal-obsessed my brother and I were (I guess she takes after TH, in that respect). She does have two favorites -- Mousie and Cottontail. Cottontail is a generic rabbit, but Mousie is special. My brother gave Mousie to me in 1989, when I had to have surgery. She is a big, fat, white mouse with personality (though all of our stuffed animals had personalities when we were kids). For some reason, Mousie's signature activity is screeching "MOTHER" at the top of her lungs (yes, I am the voice of Mousie...). TPT thinks it's hilarious and appropriated Mousie for her own a few years ago. She also decided that I am no longer Mousie's "mother", she is. Kids are strange, yes? When I told her that Mousie would have to spend 2 weeks in a plastic garbage bag, TPT became distraught and started to cry. She told me that Mousie doesn't like being in the bag and wants to come out. Eventually she stopped crying and decided to throw Mousie a party in 2 weeks to make up for her captivity. When I mentioned the Mousie-situation to my brother (via text), his response (also via text) was as follows:
"MOTHER, GET ME OUT OF HERE!"
When I showed these texts to TPT, she ran around shrieking "Mother, get me out!" at the top of her lungs. Perhaps she does share some stuffed-animal-genes with me and her uncle, after all.
Looking forward to the lice going away and Mousie being sprung from prison. And anytime I scratch my head now, I am paranoid.