Yesterday I received a phone call a little before 1:00 pm. The Caller ID simply gave the name of my kids' school district, so of course I answered it. It turned out to be the single individual that most parents hate getting a call from in the middle of their day.
The school nurse. (Be real now, you cringe too when she calls, don't you?)
Usually her phone calls are polite, friendly, "Hi Mrs. D., I have my Lil' Dude down here in my office and he says he's not feeling well." Or..."Hi Mrs. D., I have the princess down here in my office and she's hurt herself in gym..." You know, typical stuff.
Yesterday, it was a call I had never received before...
"Hi Mrs. D. Ummm, I really need you to come and get Lil' Dude..." (Wait, don't I get to hear why first? Isn't there an option? Oh boy, this can't be good.)
"He has lice."
I'm owning my "stuff" here people. Yes, it was my kid who you received the note home about. Yes, I am the parent of the child who may or may not have exposed your child to the creepy-crawlies.
I have NEVER had this experience before in my life. Neither my brother nor myself had these lil' boogers attach themselves to us when we were younger, and I've had kids in school for 11 years - this is the first time I've gotten "the call". I'll be honest (because I'm owning my "stuff"), I was MORTIFIED.
But, a day later, we've survived. I've treated 3 heads, and I've meticulously combed through 3 heads. That's right...THREE. I figure it's kind of like when the flu runs rampant through the house. When one gets it, they all get it - and I wasn't about to take any chances...So I treated 'em all. And we're washing EVERYTHING. And vacuuming EVERYTHING that can't be thrown in a washing machine. And bagging up EVERYTHING that can't be thrown in a washing machine or vacuumed.
I still have 2 weeks ahead of me before I can un-bag pillows, stuffed animals, et al...I have more meticulous combing to do over the next week, just to make sure...I have an afternoon at the laundromat for comforters and quilts to be washed...and the MOUNTAIN RANGE of laundry in my basement is so overwhelming that I'm not sure I'm even ready to face it.
But I find myself thankful.
I'm thankful for a school nurse who does an amazing job putting us parents at ease when we have absolutely NO clue what we're doing. I'm thankful for the friend who happened to be in the school at the same time I was there and caught a glimpse of me in the nurse's office, so he popped his head in just to say "hello." (To which I promptly was trying to shoo him OUT of the office for fear of causing an infestation throughout all of Western New York just from my children alone.) I'm thankful for the teacher who by God's grace alone, walked by the office and had a smile and a "thank you" for me because I had ordered some books for her classroom that she had asked for - It was a boost that I needed at that very minute. I'm also incredibly thankful for the parent who may or may not have known who the "carrier" student in her daughter's class was, and yet she posted a supportive message on our school's Facebook page to "hang in there" and offered a listening ear for the parents.