The Itchy & Scratchy Show

Yesterday was Harry’s first day back at school. And my second last day at home with Jack before he begins his academic journey of excellence. So it was a pretty special day.

It was also hotter than imaginable. I woke up and rolled over, switching on the tv to watch the news. Grant Denyer was preaching about the evils of heat and what to expect for the day. Bird were falling from the sky with heatstroke by about 8am.
We did the traditional morning coffee and walked Harry into school. By this time my face, despite the rancid heat radiating around the concrete playground, was frozen in a genuine smile. One down, one to go. Jack does not start till Wednesday.

We went home and did an hour on the slip and slide, had our second last lunch together and then I suggested he have a little nap. Because he looked hot and tired. (But truth be told I wanted an hour off to sit and watch Oprah).

He went off to his room and mucked around for about 30 minutes so I went in and suggested he watch a DVD laying down. Agreed. Loathful Angelina Ballerina was put on and I went back to watch Carlton Cressley makeover hideous American Couples. After the show, I went into Jack’s room to find him about to take a leak in the corner of his bedroom.

That is right. Apparently our house is now a 3 bedroom, 3 bathroom residence.

Jack was mortified and I was horrified. When asked why, he said he did not want to miss the part when Angelina Ballerina danced for the Queen. I flicked the tv off and Jack spent the next 15 minutes wailing WAILING in his room. After I while I went in to make peace and pulled back his covers, only to find him, permanent red marker in hand, creating a wall mural with the word Jack surrounded by a love heart.
Speechless. More wailing.

And a bit of scratching.

So I got out the nit comb and bingo. There was a lice meeting being held in his auburn curls. Apparently everyone in the nit community had showed up.

It was now reaching 33 degrees outside and of course I had to go pick up Harry, who I also suspected may be packing. The concrete playground was like a mirage, you know those fuzzy lines you see in the outback? Even the stupid skanky Indian minah birds were walking around with their mouths open. I located Harry standing next to the bubblers absentmindedly scratching his head. I mean who gets nits BEFORE school starts.

Straight to the chemist where the Woogettes announced in a clear loud voice “We have Nits!” as if it was something to be extremely proud of. Chemicals were purchased and we headed back to the lift to go down to the car.
The lift was packed with lovely looking mummies in sleeveless white shift dresses, adorable babies on one hip and in the other hand a French Market Baskets filled with Organic fancy ass lettuce and salmon. We stood and watched the Woogettes fight about pressing the button and I did the whole “your baby is so cute” lift small talk when Harry got Jack in a headlock, before releasing him quickly with a cry of “Ewwww, I don’t want to get your nits!”.

Yummy Mummy Tribe all moved slightly away while I hissed “shut up” under my breath.

Then Harry gave his neck a little scratch and looked at me “My ringworm is itchy.”
And as quick as a flash, I told him that I would tell his mum when I dropped them both home.

(Harry got ringworm in Bali and despite 2 weeks of treatment and a doctor’s visit, one is yet to vacate)

When the doors to the elevator eventually opened (what seems like an hour later) the crowd rushed out leaving me and the boys staring at each other. I was going to die. Then Jack sweetly informed me that he got me a present and produced a packet of Natio Lip glosses he had stolen from the chemist. So it was back up and into the chemist to explain that my kids were not only parasite carriers, but one of them was also a felon.

We took the stairs back down to the car park.

Home. Lather. Rinse. Comb. Repeat.

Got them into bed at 7pm stinking of bug lotion and attended to my own locks. I poured an enormous glass of wine, wrapped my hair in cling film and got on the couch in my undies to watch Glee. Finally peace.

I lathered. rinsed and combed and decided I was done in for the day. The fan was blowing onto my bed as I shifted sweatily before drifting off into a deep sleep.

I was awoken at 11.30pm by Harry, who has developed an alarming sleepwalking habit. He was standing over me holding my favourite Robert Gordon ceramic bowl full of fruit and inquired whether I needed anything from the shops. I was tempted to say “Yes, can you get me a Magnum?” but instead I gently took the bowl out of his hands and he climbed into bed with me. And from then on I could not sleep. Next to me was a ticking time bomb of fest and I was hot. And Scratchy.

Do not even start me on today. Let’s just say Mr Woog has put down the sushi and sake and has packed up his skis and is on his way home.

It will be a mixed reception when he walks in the door tomorrow. And then he will be deloused.