I bet you thought I didn’t make it out of Disneyland alive.
Well, I did. Not only did we make it out alive, we brought home a few extra friends in the form of a lice infestation! (I’m assuming they came from Disneyland because when I looked at them under a magnifying glass I noticed they were wearing teeny tiny mouse ears with their names embroidered on the back.)
My niece was the only one officially infested. KNOCK ON WOOD. To be fair, they may have come from the airplane, or the school bus, or the homeless man that babysits on occasion. We don’t know where she picked it up. To my horror I learned way too much about lice whilst frantically researching it on the internets and did you know that you can have lice for MONTHS and not even know it?!
I’m going to say something now that may shock you, Internet. I’m kind of glad this happened.
I know. Insane, right?
But seriously, I am glad this happened because it allowed me to face my fear and realize that kids getting lice is really no big deal. It’s a mild pain in the ass, but no goats had to be sacrificed.
Aside from the blood sucking parasites my parents’ visit was a delight. Mostly. Karis followed Gloria around like a shadow learning things that only a nine year old can teach – The way to say “duh” with just the right amount of attitude, what “sexing” is (for those of you who are curious, “sexing” is when a boy and a girl are naked in a bed and kissing. Yes, I am horrified that my six year old is already learning these kinds of things from reliable sources like older kids.) and how to apply eye-shadow so as to look like a french whore. A classy french whore – so it’s okay.
Even though I was technically hosting, my dad did most of the cooking. This is because he is an amazing cook, and I am an amazingly awful cook. Also, I like to make things like vegan stew and meatless meatballs. My dad doesn’t consider it a food group if it doesn’t come wrapped in bacon.
I enjoyed having my family visit, but I have recently started to wonder if they would like me if I wasn’t their daughter. Between politics, our views on homo-sexuals, religion and vegetarianism we have very little in common. My dad teases me about my lifestyle, and it’s all in good fun, but I can’t help but wonder if he’s secretly asking himself “Where did I go wrong with that one?”
You didn’t go wrong with me Dad. You raised a person who is confident and stands up for what she believes in – even if it means disagreeing with her father. (A father that is admittedly smart – even if he does eat bacon.)