nit picky love

Today I was back with Cross Fit Charlie and did many jocular things including a bunch of forty pounder dead lifts. We worked out while a class was going on. I observed my betters. They’re certainly strong. Yoga women all have an elastic slender shiny skin quality to them. Cross Fit women all look like they play rugby and drink guinness. Is this the look I’m going for? Right. I’m not going for a look. I’m going for a life.IMG_0199

Nora went to school today with her hair braided and her teacher in the know. Then she went to her last figure skating class and won two more ribbons for agility and speed. She’s now level five. Tonight was her Christmas concert and she was front and centre for the tap dance routine and the singing number. I see why. She really stood out. She had all her steps down perfectly in time to the music and so forth, but the stand out was her absolute joy. Afterwards the principal winked at me and told her “Nora, you’re very good up there as an actor and a singer, but just remember, there’s no money in the theatre.”

It was wonderful to have such a buoyant and accomplished day because I knew we’d have to do a long tedious nit pick tonight. It took an hour and to our mutual horror, we found several live squirming larvae. Obviously the medication didn’t work. She was so tired and discouraged she sobbed, her little white body huddled in the tub. She said, “Mommy, I want to be you, you’re lucky. You’re allergic to things but I think that’s better than having lice.” A while later, “Mommy, I’m a nice person but I have to admit, I want these lice to die and go to hell.” Then she started to cry again. “Oh, I shouldn’t be so terrible. Even lice are God’s creatures. Mommy, I know you have to kill them but I hope they go to see Jesus.” Where is she getting this heaven and hell business? I don’t know. I said, “Well, it’s true that it’s their time to die. We all have our time to die and these suckers are up. Maybe they’ll come back as something more useful? Like little bright green blades of grass?” She says, “Mommy, do you think there’s a hell? I don’t.” And I said, “Nah. I don’t either. But I do believe we can choose to walk away from love and that’s hell to me.” She says, “I don’t think I’ll ever be in hell then. As bad as it is to have lice. It isn’t hell. I still have love.”

I let her stay up for a snack and a story and I gave her the pretty yellow flower sheets to sleep on. She went to sleep safe and sound (and hopefully alone) while I tied into another three hours of laundry and cleaning and the odd task of trying to check my own head for lice. Now…don’t get me wrong, but I did think, “This is one of the reasons marriage is a good idea. A single person just can’t pick their own nits effectively.” I can’t have lice. I can’t. I have no husband, I have no child old enough to do it, I have no family members around and I don’t have a friend close enough to ask. Well…maybe Lisa. It isn’t hell. I still have love.





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