Prompted by Jennifer Lewis’s look at professional head lice exterminators, one Angeleno recounts a decades-old story of hair-raising humiliation. Got something to say? We’d love to hear from you. Email letters@altaonline.com. Please include your name, city, state, and phone number so we can contact you. Letters may be edited for brevity and clarity.
SCRATCHING AN ITCH
I “confiscated” (deleted from his phone when he wasn’t looking) the pictures my husband took of me and our then six-year-old daughter and 10-year-old son asleep on pillows wrapped in garbage bags and towels, hair covered with plastic wrap and shower caps. Yeah, I’d read about some lethal but chemical-free home cure involving olive oil, mayo, and oxygen deprivation (for the little buggers).
Between us, we had a couple of yards of hair, most of which hadn’t been combed since Christmas (this was April). Initially, I attributed the itching to spring allergies and bought organic medicated ointments and shampoos. When those didn’t work, I brought the kids to our pediatrician, who smiled and said, “Congratulations and welcome to your first bout of lice.”
That was when I tried the gentle but greasy home remedy. When that failed, to the hair fairies we trooped. I was embarrassed, initially, to even be seen pulling into the parking spot directly in front of the place. But inside, I found a dozen or so teens gathered from the same Brentwood birthday sleepover! OK, so I felt better knowing that Brentwood suffered lice as much as we did on the east side of town.
When it was our turn to be examined, our fairies were unapologetically fascinated with their findings. They moved between the three of us, stage-whispering how they’d never seen so many on one scalp!
“No, look at the ones I found, and just on the girl!”
“No, wait, I’m saving all mine in a jar!”
Perhaps to use as a cautionary tale? We were in our respective chairs for three hours. Enough time for me to get embarrassed all over again (because the Brentwood teens were out in an hour) and for the kids to become pissed because “Mom, how did you not know it was lice?!” Thankfully, after our hour-long follow-up visit two days later, we were declared officially lice-free. Yes, it was worth it. Sort of.
I don’t know if this would even be possible now, 20 years later, but I convinced my insurance company to foot most of the $1,500 bill. The rest I rationalized as a birthday gift for my dear, bald husband. We did get him a pricey card to go with it, though.
Karen Rizzo
Los Angeles, California•
