The Lousy Weekend

It was nearing five o’clock on a Friday, and I was looking forward to the weekend: soccer, errands, dinner with friends, the season premiere of Homeland. Then the phone rang. “Mommy?” my daughter said. Her voice sounded shaky. “What happened?” I asked. “I just got in a car accident,” she said. “I’m fine, but….” “Where are you? Do you need me to come down?” She did.

I arrived about the same time as the police. My daughter started to cry as soon as she saw me. She had lost control on a rain-slicked road, striking a parked car and a pickup truck traveling in the other direction. No one was hurt. But her 2004 Chevy Malibu, so proudly purchased a month earlier with her camp counselor earnings, sat crumpled on a bed of shattered glass, front bumper dangling and deflated airbags waving like white flags.

My heart broke for her, even through my irritation. What a waste: of money, of time, of freedom. Yet I felt oddly relieved–because she hadn’t been injured, of course, but also because she had just learned a critical lesson about her own vulnerability and the dangers of a wet road. It would make her a better driver for the rest of her life. Besides, I was secretly pleased that with her car out of commission, she’d be stuck at home with us.

But I didn’t realize just how fortuitous that would turn out to be until the next morning, when my my 10-year-old daughter was getting ready for her soccer game. She called me into the bathroom, where she was putting up her hair. “What’s this?” she asked, pointing at some tiny dark specks in the hair at her temples. I shrugged. “Dirt?”

“But it’s moving,” she said. “And kind of itchy.”

With mounting terror, I looked more closely. Then behind her ears. The nape of her neck. And finally, online, where Google Image confirmed it: we had lice. I groaned. We had almost gotten three kids through elementary school without ever contracting the dreaded parasites! Now we were the family everyone would shun. After a quick chat with the pediatrician, I headed for CVS–the one in the next town–and purchased the Nix “family pack” and a stainless steel nit comb, conveniently located in the “Warts & Lice” aisle.

My daughter, calm and stoic, followed the instructions on the shampoo package and then sat under a light so I could pick the nits out. “I don’t see any more!” I said after a few  minutes. “Maybe we got them all?”

Her big sister wandered over for a look. “There’s one right THERE,” she said. “And there’s another.” I squinted, and even through my +1.50 readers, I could barely make out what looked like a half a poppy seed clinging to a strand of hair. A grain of sand would have dwarfed it. (Reason #127 not to have kids too late in life: you want your vision still sharp when you have to pick lice eggs out of their hair.) If you’ve ever had the misfortune of lice, you will know what I’m talking about; if you haven’t, never let your child near another child again! The prospect of finding and removing every last infinitesimal nit seemed utterly daunting, and highly unlikely.

But luckily, I had a secret weapon: an eagle-eyed, and homebound, adoring big sister. So while my husband and I took a break from filling out insurance claims and sterilizing hairbrushes to attend a dinner party, she spent the evening selflessly picking nits out of her little sister’s hair. They had a grand old time, too, listening to music, chatting and giggling as they extracted the little buggers one by one. I don’t know any other 17-year-old who would have tackled such a distasteful task with so much kindness and zeal. For that, she deserves to win the Teenager of the Year award. Especially if the prize is a new car.

Advertisements

About Susan H. Greenberg

Susan H. Greenberg spent 22 years as a journalist for Newsweek Magazine. She now works as a writer, editor, teacher, and parent of three children, with whom she strives always to maintain a varnish-free relationship.
This entry was posted in Family life, Kids, Parenting, Reality check, Siblings, Teenagers and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

6 Responses to The Lousy Weekend

  1. lisa says:

    Wow! I am soooo glad sweet D. is fine. And that’s a beautiful sister story! oo Lisa

  2. Andi says:

    I remember being in an accident at 17. It was only when I heard my mom’s voice on the phone that I burst into tears. Something about knowing I’d be ok let me unleash all the tension and fear.

    Now that the viceral lesson has been learned, how about that advanced driving class in N. Andover? It’s all about keeping control of the car in an emergency. Our whole family took it.

  3. Bob Flanagan says:

    THis is outstanding! I love the “I headed for CVS–the one in the next town” line.

  4. Bill McGahan says:

    So sweet. Glad she is okay. Great article.

  5. David Holzman says:

    That is a weekend for the ages. Glad that Devon is ok. I always tell people that she is one of the best kids I have ever met. Nice hearing bragging when it is not from the parents!

    David Holzman
    CFO / General Manager
    Winbrook

    15 Alexander Road | Billerica, MA 01821
    T: +1.978.964.1860 | C: +1.978.807.6658| E: dholzman@winbrook.com
    Join Winbrook on Facebook LinkedIn Twitter YouTube
    The Winbrook Advantage is ready to work for you.
    Winbrook | Winbrook Promo | Magicomm

  6. Oh Lord, what a week you had! So sorry. The accident sounded scary but as you said, always good to keep perspective and count your blessings that nobody was injured. As for the lice–been there– several times! Oy, what a nuisance. I hope they go away and stay away.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s