There Ain't No Bugs On Me!

Now that I have learned about the origins of Boxing Day in the UK, I was all geared up to have a proper one, complete with a brisk winter walk in the countryside. Unfortunately, none of that happened. Early on this morning, I was complaining about my own itchy head, and Emma commented that her head was itchy too. I had a look and discovered, to my complete and utter horror, that we had ourselves Boxing Day Headlice infestation! My dear husband and Sophie spent the morning tracking down the appropriate antidote, which required a bit of driving and trips to more than one pharmacy. The rest of the day was spent nit pickin' and sanitizing everything I could possibly think of. Beds have been vacuumed, beaten and chastised. Linens, towels and hairbrushes have been scalded... and I still have a pretty good case of the heebie jeebies and phantom itches.

D*mn you, lice! You prevented me from going out for a crisp walk on St. Stephen's Day just like good old King Wenceslas, but at least, everyone appears to be sorted. I'm sure my reaction was an overreaction as I have never been able to make peace with creepy crawlies.

Anyway...in case you are curious about the origins of Boxing day/ St. Stephen's Day and don't have a sensible friend like my Joanna to set you straight, you can click here .

Today Sophie and I have been singing: There ain't no bugs on me. There ain't no bugs on me. Lots of bears have bugs in their hair, but there ain't no bugs one me! (May this continue to be true!!)

Your Daily Dose of English Lit...

Excerpted from Robert Burns's

Ode to a Louse

(to be read in your best Irish brogue)

Ha! whare ye gaun' ye crowlin ferlie?

Your impudence protects you sairly;

I canna say but ye strunt rarely

Owre gauze and lace,

Tho faith! I fear ye dine but sparely On such a place.

Ye ugly, creepin, blastit wonner,

Detested, shunn'd by saunt an sinner,

How daur ye set your fit upon her--So fine a lady!

Go somewhere else and seek your dinner

On some poor body.