Ralph, a homeless man who lives in my novel, The Courier, has head lice. At one point, he explains how lice can sometimes be advantageous. That doesn’t stop him from using an unconventional method to rid himself of them.
I won’t tell you what Ralph feels the upside is, you’ll have to read the book when it comes out.
What I will say is that-LICE-easily deserves its four-letter-word status. Uttered, the word strikes terror in the hearts of mothers with long-haired children.
The letter comes home from elementary school. They’re doing “head lice checks.” Immediately, your kids begin to itch. You comb through their hair, searching. Then, you feel that tickle on your scalp. You run to the mirror hoping for the best. You see nothing, but that doesn’t stop the creepy-crawly sensation on your head.
And try riding on public transit next to someone who’s head-scratching like there’s no tomorrow. Ugh!
Ewwww. . . just writing about it gives me the heebie-jeebies.
My theory is this:
Once lice are on your mind, you itch like crazy because your mind is so dang close to your head. So there.