Teaching the Kids to Cuss

June 13, 2013 at 1:03 pm (Kids, Silliness) (, )

My ten-year-old had lice during Easter break. It was kind of funny actually, by which I mean not funny at all, but rather skin-crawlingly gross. But I did have to laugh when I described it to a friend as “biblical” and then went, “No seriously, it’s biblical! Lice was one of the plagues during the Passover.” So Riley’s timing continues to be impeccable.

Anyway, we had a good decade of kids before having lice in the house, so I feel like we had a pretty decent run. Riley found a louse right before bedtime on the Wednesday before Easter. Sam ran out to get stuff to deal with it. I’m pretty crunchy, but when he called from the store asking whether he should get a treatment with or without harsh chemicals, I yelled into the phone, “We’re going nuclear here, Sam!” I hate to toot my own horn, which is awkward for a blog-writer, but I quickly became a lice expert, and while I can’t guarantee my methodology for anyone else, it certainly worked for us.

This blog post wasn’t meant to be about lice, but in case you have to deal with it, here’s what I did. I used the nuclear-strength treatment, which annihilated all the living lice in her hair. This was the worst step by far, one. because it was really expletive disgusting combing dead bugs out of my child’s hair, and two, because the chemicals are really strong and they hurt her scalp and stung her eyes. Then I combed out all the eggs using a special lice comb and the crunchy organic non-chemical lice treatment. Then, and this was my own innovation, I flat-ironed her hair. I just thought, “What can it hurt? I’m going to try and fry those expletives.” The next morning, I went through with the comb and the crunchy stuff again, and then the flat-iron again, and by the next morning she was lice-free.

Ok, back to the regularly scheduled blog post. This whole process took a really long time, and since we started at bedtime, Riley was up really, really late that first night. She was weeping with exhaustion, but she’s such a good kid, she couldn’t help but see the humor in the situation. She’d cry a little, and then crack a joke, like “Oh, no big deal, my mom is just combing dead bugs out of my hair at 11 pm. Hair’s dead anyway, so she’s combing dead bugs out of my dead hair.” I was DYING, she was so funny. Come to think of it, I may have been a little slappy too, but I think I probably would have done what I did anyway, even if I hadn’t been. Poor Riley sat there in the bathroom, while I picked through her hair for nits, and she was so unhappy…I said to her, “Riley, this is why God invented swearing.”

“Mommy, God didn’t invent swearing.”

“Fine, this is why people invented swearing, and God invented people, so basically God invented swearing.” This is of course terrible logic, and will probably get me into horrible trouble later on with my steel-trap-mind of a daughter, but as I’ve said, it was late…and gross. “So which swear words do you know?”

Her brown eyes, squinty with tiredness, opened wide. “The “s” one?” she asked.

“Let it rip,” I said.

“SHIT!!!!!” she hollered, and fell apart giggling. “Oh my gosh Mommy, that felt amazing!”

And like that, my daughter learned a little more about the power of the spoken language, and the timing of a good four-letter word. So, you know, I’m teaching the important stuff over here.


1 Comment

  1. Michaela said,

    Love this! I’m giggling over here picturing poor Riley and her deadbugsindeadhair and feeling triumphant for her as she “let it rip.” Sometimes you just hafta.

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