Hairy hunter, gatherer, nit picker

Ok, ok, not all of it is true...
I'm not exactly hairy...

Well, here we are. Statistically, we've been lucky for a looooong time, but here we go, three kids under the age of ten and we've finally got a visit from squatters.
Six of them. On Wednesday evening.
On Luca's head.

Strangely enough, I have to admit that it was an almost jubilatory experience to find these unwanted guests stuck between the infinitely tight teeth of the Nitty Gritty Comb TM*
And the tiny tiny crunch of their evil keratin shell against the bathroom sink was a most satisfying experience.
Bastards!
Nothing like nits to wake the hunter gatherer in me.
Bring it on, you evil little bastards! We're ready.

Well, Mrs Raheny wasn't totally at first.
Her initial reaction was one of utter disgust and slight weakness in the knees.

A thorough check of all the Raheny scalps was swiftly undertaken.
And we got confirmation that the infestation (of six) was confined to our oldest child's head.

Somehow it looks like my no-cuddling-of-the-kids-under-any-circumstance rule bore fruits. How insightful of me that was...

Anyway, we have rarely been as close as a family.
We have happily been combing each other hair for hours for the last two evenings.

I was very tempted to make a big open fire in the garden this evening, and roast a few hedgehogs, squirrels and other foxes while we carefully scrutinized each other's scalp for hair lice.

Them nits, they really bring you back to earth with a bang.
We are primates.
And there is no app for nit removal...


* Made by Mums... Kind to kids. Marketing genius, I know that this is precisely what sold it to Mrs Raheny... them shaggin dads, they just don't have a clue... and they don't care