28 Feb Dirty Words
What I wish uku-killing assassins looked like.
Today I’m going to use some filthy language on this blog. Guaranteed to send the fainter-hearted amongst you, running for the hills.
We’ve got ’em. Do you?
I’ve blogged about this nasty stuff before – Waging War on Princess Leia Only this time, it’s different. This time, we are facing predators on a whole new level. In Samoa, we call head lice “uku’s”. Here in New Zealand, they call head lice a Health Board notifiable epidemic. Not long after the Fab 5 started school, Little Daughter came home with a notice. Some unfortunate nameless children had been caught with lice, the appropriate authorities were notified and hence, an epidemic warning to all parents from the Health Board. With instructions on what to do if you caught some and how to do it. I freaked out and my brown mother paranoia set in. I don’t ever want the government zoning in on MY child’s hair and declaring us brown folks a health hazard, dammnit. Stern warnings were issued to the little ones. We got even more super serious about hair checks.
But in spite of all our efforts, those evil creatures broke through our defenses. Little Daughter confessed, “My head is really itchy. I think I have ukus!” and burst into tears. Why? Because I had freaked her out about the Auckland Health Board. “Are they going to come and get us?” she asked fearfully. I felt bad. (Since she was freaked out because I had been overly freaked out.) “No, no don’t be silly. Im going to exterminate every last one of those creatures. No Health officials are going to brand us with a scarlet letter epidemic notice.” Bella thought it was funny. She announced dramatically ( loud enough for the neighbors neighbors to hear) “Uku’s are eating holes in my brain!”
I have been fighting uku’s for nearly three weeks now and have come to a conclusion – NZ head lice are freakish mutants. They just will not die. Three different treatments and countless hours of bug busting combing sessions later and we are finally rid of these pesky parasites. ( I think. For now anyway.) I have subjected these children to enough chemicals to start our own nuclear dump site. Raked through their hair with the vicious single-mindedness of an assassin. I have had to threaten, cajole and bribe them to endure hours of bug searches and shampoo washes. Impatient, wriggly four year old Bella is the worst to treat. I have to tell all sorts of lies when I’m dealing with her. “I’ll let you have bubblegum/watch cartoons/eat cookies if you sit still…Stop moving, or I won’t kill them for you, I’ll be a bad mother and just LET THEM eat holes in your brain. Come back here, uku’s are going to suck your blood like hundreds of little vampires! They’re going to crawl into your ears and come out of your nose…”
Oh, and all those ads and products with pictures of happy mothers treating their happy children for head lice? Big Fat Uku Lies perpetuated by Big Fat Uku Liars. There is no smiling, laughing or warm, tender moments of love when we are eradicating head lice. Hell no. Not in this house anyway. Especially not when you have three daughters with very long, very thick hair. Who use your hair brush and like to come sleep in your bed in the middle of the night when they’ve had a bad dream. Bringing their parasites with them. Yeah, you know what happened next, dont you…
Somebody needs to do a scientific study on Samoan ukus and NZ ones. They don’t even look the same. And I should know, because I’ve been killing them with my bare hands. ( Like ninja assassins do.) NZ uku’s are a different color than Samoan ones. (And Im not trying to make a racially-driven joke either.) And they have better camouflage techniques than Samoan ones. They are tougher, stronger, faster, more resistant to radioactive waste. I’m telling you, these NZ uku’s are the next evolutionary step for head lice. Definitely mutants. I was so tempted to resort to the ‘traditional’ Samoan method for killing uku’s. Cut all your child’s hair off. Then paint their head with kerosene. And pray they don’t go near any open fires. OR wrap half their heads in a plastic bag and spray them with Mortein insect-killer. And keep them home from school so the teacher doesn’t smell the pesticide and report you to the Child Protection Authorities for cruel and unusual abuse. Yep, I was tempted.
I think Bella’s right. Uku’s probably are eating our brains. I know mine isn’t working properly anymore.
What uku-killing assassins really look like.