Meet my wife, Lydia. She has a knack for self-diagnosing. Just this year alone, she’s convinced herself she has a dislocated shoulder, tendinitis, arthritis, walking pneumonia, pink eye, and a host of other ailments. Bless her heart! If you were to suggest she might be a hypochondriac, she would vehemently disagree. But if she spent five minutes on WebMD, she’d probably exclaim, “Oh no! That’s me!”
Lydia is also terrified of bed bugs. To her, these critters have powers worthy of a horror movie: they’re nearly invisible, can survive for years without a meal, and are the cause of 90% of life’s problems. Hypochondria and bed-bug-phobia pair together like fire and gasoline. Even though we keep a clean home, Lydia has diagnosed us with bed bugs at least five times, usually in the middle of the night, as she insists we check the mattress for evidence. Thankfully, we’ve never had bed bugs—until LICE-POCALYPSE hit just days before Christmas.
Day 0 (6 Days Until Christmas)
After a family outing to the movies, we kick off our typical post-theater routine: everyone strips down in the laundry room and tosses clothes in the dryer to combat the dreaded bed bugs. Little did we know, a different kind of bug was hitching a ride on our eldest.
Day 1 (5 Days Until Christmas)
It’s family game night, and my 7-year-old daughter, Emily, complains of an itchy scalp. Lydia, ever the vigilant mom, places her under a bright light for a thorough inspection, reminiscent of a medical exam. “I found something!” she cries. I’m skeptical, thinking this is just another “the sky is falling” moment.
As I peer into Emily’s golden locks, horror strikes as I spot a tiny bug scurrying away. I share a solemn nod with Lydia, and she screams. Emily is crushed, and I instinctively pull her close, only to receive a glare from Lydia that says, “You better back off.” In a flash, Lydia is off to the pharmacy, determined to acquire any and all lice treatments without raising eyebrows. There’s a fleeting thought that she may be on a one-way trip to Idaho to launch a society where hair is a thing of the past.
The night devolves into a whirlwind of frantic cleaning and treatments, even though we’ve only spotted three bugs.
Lydia is in full-on panic mode, donning latex gloves and spraying lice-killing aerosols as if we’re in a chemical war zone. Amidst the chaos, she accidentally knocks over a lamp. “Leave it! No time!” she yells. We toss out countless items—sheets, blankets, stuffed animals, and clothes—while applying a plethora of chemicals to our scalps. “THE BED HAS TO GO!” she declares.
After the initial scare, I decide to shave our son’s head in the dead of night, channeling my inner Natalie Portman from V for Vendetta. Meanwhile, Emily tries to find the silver lining: “Having lice is kind of fun,” she insists nervously.
We notify teachers, friends, and family. We’ve become prisoners in our own home, held hostage by tiny, hair-sucking terrorists. We go to bed that night, realizing life will never quite be the same again.
Day 2 (4 Days Until Christmas)
Our house resembles a battleground, with sheets draped over furniture and steam rising from boiling water as we sanitize our lice combs. Empty wine bottles clutter the counter, and Lydia plays Michael Bublé’s holiday tunes, reminiscent of a death row inmate clinging to memories of better times.
Despite not having spotted any live bugs since the initial scare, the mere thought of their presence looms large in our minds. Our family tradition involves gathering at Lydia’s parents’ house on Christmas Day, but we’re uncertain if we’ll be welcome. For an introvert like me, perhaps being shunned for a bug infestation isn’t the worst thing.
Day 3 (3 Days Until Christmas)
Lydia dreams of lice crawling all over her, while my dreams are filled with outlandish solutions. Maybe if 20 minutes in the dryer kills lice, we could toss the kids in there too? Or fake my own death and start fresh as a surfer named Chad in California?
Out of nowhere, Lydia discovers an electric comb that detects and kills lice—like a hairbrush and bug zapper combo. What a time to be alive! At Walgreens, I load up on beer, while the gentleman in front of me says he wishes he could come to my house. I fantasize about shaking my $50 lice treatment in his face and shouting, “Do you really want to, buddy?!”
Day 4 (2 Days Until Christmas)
I wake from a dream where the Elf on the Shelf now sports a surgeon’s cap, ready to combat lice. Lydia insists we meditate, but chaos ensues when Emily screams about her brother shooting her with a Nerf gun. “No! We’re meditating!” I yell in frustration.
In a bid to restore some semblance of joy, Lydia crafts adorable Pinterest-inspired snacks for the kids. “Are those lice?” I wonder aloud, concerned for her sanity.
Day 5 (Christmas Eve)
We’re still on the lookout for nits—the eggs that could hatch within a week—since we haven’t found any bugs since Day 1. “Nits are the original Hatchimals,” I joke, but Lydia doesn’t find it funny.
“Is Santa afraid of lice?” my son asks nervously. “Will he still come?” Emily wonders. We cautiously text family members for their thoughts on spending time with us and receive a lukewarm green light.
We watch A Charlie Brown Christmas, and when Pig-Pen shows up, Lydia and I simultaneously say, “That kid definitely has lice.” As we settle in for the night, we try to convince ourselves, “Not a creature was stirring, not even a louse.”
Day 6 (Christmas)
Santa arrives, presumably in a hazmat suit, and we visit Lydia’s family while keeping our distance. Christmas without hugs is a new low. We’ve become the black sheep, but it turns out that lice can’t kill the Christmas spirit. Tragedy brings families closer together, and despite the chaos, we feel united in the face of our lice crisis.
Will the nits hatch? Will we discover more bugs? We’re uncertain, but we know we can weather this storm together. I jokingly dump a pepper shaker on my head and call Lydia over, pretending to find something in my hair. She is not amused. My son and I fist-bump in solidarity.
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Summary
This humorous narrative recounts the chaotic experience of a family dealing with a lice infestation just before Christmas. With a mix of panic, humor, and an unyielding spirit, the family navigates the challenges of lice while trying to maintain their holiday traditions.