So that’s what a nitpicker is?

The following is an interview with my wife, Cara, who has spent the better part of the last four days in an existential crisis after discovering lice on our 8-year-old boy’s noggin.

FELIX: So, lice. Tell me more.

CARA: Come on. I’m going to need a more specific question.

FELIX: Understood. I was away, and you discovered Henry had lice. That’s gross. Walk me through it. 

CARA:  We were watching a movie. He was scratching his head a lot.

FELIX: How did you know he wasn’t scratching his head because he was perplexed? Was it Avatar, because he still doesn’t know what the heck is going on in Avatar?

CARA: I don’t remember what movie it was, but his scratching seemed more than a perplexing itch.

FELIX: Take it from there.

CARA: I started investigating his head and I …  I saw something move. And I knew that wasn’t normal. I saw it, and I ran to the Internets.

FELIX: “Internets.” That’s a poke at George Bush, right?

CARA: Yeah.

FELIX:  Still resentment?

CARA: Yes, and it’s still fresh because your brother still thinks Bush was a great leader.

FELIX: It’s upsetting, I know. So did you find the information you were looking for?

CARA: Yes, on the World Wide Web.

FELIX: Then what?

CARA: I ran back to Henry to compare, and I was able to confirm that what I was seeing crawling on his scalp was lice, and I was horrified. And then I called my sister because her kids had lice last year, and I was panicking. It was 9 o’clock at night. You better not misquote me in any of this.

FELIX: What was Henry doing awake at 9 o’clock.

CARA: It’s summer. Maybe we were watching “Hoot.” No, it wasn’t “Hoot.” God, we watch so much crap.

FELIX: So your sister told you not to panic. But how do you not panic when you see lice on child?

CARA:  I know, right? Horror. Shame. Fear. Why I’m even agreeing to this interview is because lice remains a taboo, and it’s something that happens – a lot – and we shouldn’t feel ashamed to talk about it.

FELIX: You’re a brave woman, and you’ll be remembered long after your death.

CARA: And once you start talking about lice, automatically your head itches, too. My head is still itching me four days later.

FELIX: Maybe you have lice.

CARA: But I don’t.

FELIX: But maybe you do.

CARA: Don’t write that.

FELIX: I won’t.

CARA: So my sister thought I should shave his head, but his hair is really long and shaggy. To go from long hair to a shaved head – that’s too severe.

FELIX: He had lice. Too severe to shave his head? Is it because he’s a redhead like you and you were protecting your own?

CARA: Well, you just put those words into my mouth. I know he was shaggy, and he needed a trim, but it just seemed excessive, alright? Plus, we no longer have that thing [she makes the universal gesture for electronic hair shears]. So I brought him up to the bathroom, and I started cutting his hair. Hacking, really. It was a panic-induced haircut, and then I soaked his whole head in olive oil and wrapped it in Saran wrap. Then, after he went to bed, I think I was on the Internets again for an hour, obsessively reading about lice.

FELIX: When you cut his hair, did he fear he would lose some of his superhuman power?

CARA: No. He was upset, but I was more upset. He really loves his long hair.

FELIX: And is this when you started washing every piece of textile in the house, twice?

CARA: Yeah. Actually six or seven times, and that doesn’t include the high-heat setting on the dryer, and then all the vacuuming.

FELIX: So let’s go to the morning of Day 2.

CARA: After washing the olive oil out of his hair, I combed his hair and discovered some dead lice.

FELIX: God, that’s so gross.

CARA: Anyway, the game plan was to get the toxic chemical treatment. You could go the “natural treatment,” but I went with the big guns. To hell with it.

FELIX: You know, the skin absorbs things really easily, including toxins.

CARA: Yes of course I know. The skin is our biggest organ.

FELIX: Speak for yourself. So you kept Henry home from day camp?

CARA: You have to. Then I emailed the mother of his best friend at camp because we were supposed to have a sleep over, and of course that had to be cancelled. Okay, so here I am, sending word out into the world that my son has lice. I took a big gulp of coffee and pushed send, and I immediately heard back from her that both of her kids had lice, too.

FELIX: You must’ve been psyched. What I mean is, that news must have triggered a lot of compassion in you that she, too, was going through a similar tribulation.

CARA: Nope. There was a sense of relief that we weren’t suffering alone and that there’s no reason to feel stigmatized by head lice. It happens. I realized a lot of people had gone through this, and I was feeling less like a shameball.

FELIX: I notice you’re itching.

CARA: I don’t have lice. So we went to Rite Aid and we got our lice treatment.

FELIX: Were you feeling funny about bringing a bottle up to the counter that had the word “Lice” on it?

CARA: Yeah. I was paranoid that people behind me in line would see the bottle and that they’d see my son’s bad hair cut, and that they would put the pieces into place, and, actually, that’s how it went. They gave us a wide berth. Also, I got a fine-tooth comb. We put on a movie, and I spent three hours doing his hair. You spray it and comb it. I did three days of combing. I’d love to have those hours of my life back. Friday and Saturday were only one-hour combs because there was nothing coming out. Did you know “nitpicking” means removing lice?

FELIX: It’s funny because I just found out what a “bunghole” is. And technically, despite what you say, I am not a “bunghole.” So did you spend all these days completely focused on his head?

CARA: We did get some things done. We spray painted the metal deck chairs.

FELIX: Yes, and by the way, they look great. Good color choice.

CARA: Thanks. And I thought for a split second of spray painting his hair, because that spray paint could have killed anything.

FELIX: At what point were you certain the horror was over?

CARA: I still don’t feel certain, because if there’s one single egg left behind …

FELIX: You just scratched your head again.

CARA: I don’t have lice, and by the way, you’re scratching your head, too.