We were introduced by a friend.
She didn’t know you would be so clingy, so demanding.
Such a total leech.
Sucking the life out of me.
But when you started in on my kid, that was it.
It was time for you to go.
It wasn’t easy.
You didn’t want to leave.
It was clear.
You had to die.
Stuck home on a snow day, I’m Googling ways to end you.
It wasn’t enough to get rid of you.
I had to totally erase your existence.
Clean anything you’d touched like a literal plague.
Boiling all the sheets was easy enough.
But trying to get a kid to sit still, while I tore your influence away one painstaking strand at a time?
Just awful.
Everything had to be examined.
All the lies and denials.
It was a total nit-picking nightmare.
I went to a specialist.
We went over everything.
Talked about how you wouldn’t let go.
How I just wanted to cut you out of my life so badly I was willing to get rid of anything you held dear.
“Just do it.” I told her. “Quick, like a band-aid. I’ll close my eyes and think of Sinead, Sean, and Shaquille. They’ve made it work for them.”
She talked me down from the nuclear option.
Getting your hair done is usually a calm, soothing experience.*
But getting rid of you was not.
With every stroke, it felt like I was being pulled in two.
As she scorched my tresses in thirty-second blasts, I visualized you frying until your little head popped.
I imagined your tiny death rattle.
And then I went home and cleaned like a woman possessed.
If you’d touched it, into the garbage, laundry, or freezer it went.
And then, I tackled my child.
It wasn’t pretty.
It wasn’t fun.
But it had to be done.
And if you ever come back into my life, I will totally do it again.
Breaking up is hard to do.
But in eleven days, after a repeat cathartic cleansing, it’ll be over.
I’ll finally be rid of you.**
Happy Lousy Valentine’s Day, you creep.
Asterisk Bedazzled Footnote:
*I’ve never paid so much to have my hair done only to leave a ‘stylist’ looking more like a train wreck. Except for the time I went to high-end salon and they gave me (without my permission) some godawful cut called a ‘Rachel.’ Looking back, even this experience wasn’t that bad!
**Don’t visit us for at least two weeks to be safe.
*_____________________________________*
You read this far bonus:
I found a weirdly appropriate book in French while searching for Google images to accompany this post. I couldn’t quite fit it into the above text but wanted to share it with you.
Here is: The Terrible Adventures of Valentine and Her 118 Lice.
Yes, I’m giving you lice for Valentines.
It truly is the gift that keeps on giving.
Featured image available at: https://www.toilette-humor.com/valentines/valentines_heart_rejects.shtml
TheDustSeason 
No wait, that guy lived with me for a while.
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I hope you washed that man right out of your hair! (Let’s see if you know that reference.)
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I get it — and, unlike him, I have hair. I’m afraid he left a lasting smell on my tresses (ha ha). He was a true sociopath. But it was a good learning experience.
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I think his sister dated my brother.
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Depending on how you feel about your brother that is either terrible news or just desserts. Either way, he has my sympathies in as far as you would like me to extend them!
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Perfect response. Does my ambivalent relationship with my brother show that much?
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No, but I might have been projecting my feelings on you. I’m afraid I take my baggage everywhere I go.
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I understand that!!
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Well that is some lousy luck K. YEESH.
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As they would sing at the Grand ‘Ol Opry House, “If it weren’t for bad luck, I’d have no luck at all.”
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Clapton also…
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Eric Clapton?
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He did a great version of it with the band Cream. I am that old, yes, I am.
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ACK !! Those things tormented my daughter when she was in the 7th grade- what a pain !
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Torment is a good word for it. Though, we caught it early. Still cleaning everything you own twice over is a pain, to say the least.
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Absolutely. I had a beard at the time, and it was the first thing of mine that had to go when she came home with em. I still have that little comb. 😀
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Apparently they don’t actually like beard hair. So you made your gallant sacrifice for nothing. That said, I’m seriously squeamish about these bastards, now that they’ve started hatching. (Apparently there’s nothing short of a nuclear option to kill them.) My kid won’t tolerate the professional steam cleaning approach. So I’m basically fighting against germ warfare and trying not to get reinfected at the same time. This is going to be a very long two weeks.
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Yes, I totally remember the struggle — but you will win out in the end !!! Sorry you’re having to deal with it, at all !
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Ohhhh, BEEN THERE! One of our daughters brought them home from a birthday party, where she caught it playing Pin the Tail on the Donkey. We know this, because everybody at the party (except one girl) had nits in bands around their heads where the blindfold was tied. The one who didn’t have nits in a band around her head was the one who had them ALL OVER her head. Ugh. Well, it happens. Just one of those wonderful moments in parenting.
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I’m going to try not to get paranoid about it, but I wasn’t kidding about how expensive this was. If it happens again, I’m going to shave my head and eschew hugging.
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And don’t play anything that involves sharing a blindfold.
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