"I couldn't make this shit up if I tried"
That is a constant lament when I talk to my bestie on the phone. How is life so much stranger than fiction? Just when you think you have it all under control... Something comes and pulls the rug out from under you. Or as in my case, pulls the possibly lice infested rug from under you and promptly instructs you to put it in the washer. On hot, with all the chemicals and detergent, and maybe some vinegar. Whatever. Let's talk about last Friday night.
Fridays are my hardest days because I have to be at the store at six in the morning. Yes six, and now since it's getting colder, these mornings have become an even harder task. Fridays are spent getting to two thirty which is usually when my shift ends, coming home to change, and then picking up Caitlin from school. Then it's usually a quick stop for food, since mama ain't cooking, and then home. Where I put on sweats, eat all of the things, and watch any TGIT (Shonda-land holla!) that I may have missed. I don't ask for much. I'm a simple girl. I just want a quiet, lazy Friday night.
Except for last Friday night.
As we were putting together dinner (which was pulling out leftovers, cereal, chips, and toaster waffles), I received a call that the LICE ALERT of 2014 at Mac's preschool was not an isolated incident, but in fact an infestation with three kids and counting affected. Oh shit balls. So far, we were clear, but I didn't want to take any chances, so we went into action taking precautionary measures, and putting our terror level at Orange. Well, maybe a yellow orange. After dinner a trip to Target was going to be necessary, add in the trip to the pet store for new fish.
What's that you say? New fish? Why?
Because we murdered the fish. Okay, accidental homicide. The famous fish from the Fresno fair had survived a trip at the fair, the ride home, the week spent in plastic tanks with tap water, only to meet their demise in a clean tank with a filter. Sort of. The Hubbs sprang for a real tank with a filter a few weeks back since the fish had survived living for a week on the counter in the kitchen. They were happy in their new home and had fun swimming in all that space. So a week ago Monday I came home from work and declared that the tank was filthy and needed to be cleaned. I had been stating this for a week, but this time I put my foot down and made some demands and bitched a blue streak about it. So the Hubbs did his thing and cleaned the tank, put in the sparkling clean water, fed them, and then we all went to bed.
Tuesday morning. Roughly five o'clock.
Hubbs: Megan. MEGAN (loud whisper).
Me: What? (annoyed as all get out)
Hubbs: I killed the fish.
Hubbs: The fish. I killed the fish. The fish are dead. I'm a fish killer.
Me: Was it the clean water? Did they go into shock?
Hubbs: The kids are gonna hate me.
The kids didn't give a shit about the dead fish. They only asked two things: Did we flush them? and Can we buy more?. The Hubbs on the other hand felt terrible and called himself a fish murderer for a week. But he did take them to the pet store, buy all the supplies for a tropical fish, and came home to set up the tank before bringing new fish home. Hence the Friday night promised trip to the pet store.
So first up, Lice kits, new pillows, and prayers. Second, new tropical fish. I mean if that's not an exciting Friday night, I don't know what is.
Of course it wasn't until I had the lice killing shampoo on the heads of my children that I realized that I didn't buy new brushes or pony tail elastics at Target when I was there just a few hours before. I also realized as I started the first of what would be seventeen loads of laundry that we were dangerously close to being out of laundry soap. So I went back to Target, alone and under the gun, because the lice killing shampoo was killing my kids. Not really, but they sure acted like it.
Can I also add that when we are in the thick of it, and life seems so impossible, there are always those people that come through and make your heart swell? My neighbor Jeanette sent me a text while I was at Target that had me tearing up. She wanted to let me know that she was totally available to comb out nits. Nits, people. Since this business was all a precaution to avoid an infestation, I asked if she could come over and check for nits to begin with. She said yes, and came over in her pajamas, coughing and sniffling. She had a cold, but that wasn't going to stop her from helping me comb out nits if needed. She's a great friend, and so I thanked her the only way I knew how, on Facebook of course.
So we set up two new tropical fish babies. We started the Laundry Festival of 2014. We stripped beds, treated hairs, and sprayed some toxic concoction on all of the things. Then the Hubbs vacuumed all of the things, and then I fell asleep and the Hubbs most likely gave me the death stare.
In his defense, he did all seventeen loads (we lost count after seven, so seventeen still seems appropriate almost a week later). I had to work all weekend, so he had to play super hero. For the record, he folded almost all of it. With the exception of my clothes because as he likes to tell everyone, I just lay mine out all over the house and hang them up as needed. That is an pretty accurate statement if you ask me.
It's been a week, and thank the Lawd no lice. It may or may not have helped that both kids had fevers this week, so we didn't go to preschool once. I have to say having clean sheets and clean underwear in the same month is something pretty fantastic, but I seriously doubt it will ever happen again. Those are little luxuries we just can't afford.
The fish are still alive, so here's hoping that we don't have another incident. I'm still scratching my head from all the lice talk, and somehow still have nightmares of having to do it all again. Did you know that lice can hold their breath underwater for ten minutes? Isn't that just bat-shit insane? What the hell could they do if they had opposable thumbs?
It's Friday again. And I'm saying a silent prayer for a quiet night. I want to wear leggings and sit on the couch and watch whatever Christmas movie my kids want. Because I want to relax. I want to be lazy. And I want to enjoy this life, lately.