What is a time of joy for many women was my darkest hour.
Remember those kids who mysteriously went missing from class for a day or two and then came back with a hack job hair cut, aka Lice Locks? The whispers on the playground were deafening.
In sixth grade it happened to this girl named Bianca and her cousin Lupe. Both of whom had glossy tidal waves of thick black hair on Monday and hideola "pixie" cuts on Wednesday that were very Arya from "Game of Thrones."
Why you should never go to Super Swords for a trim.
I felt for those girls. EVERYONE knew, but no one said anything -- not to their faces anyway. Instead we just scooted to left a little whenever they joined us for lunch or politely declined their mechanical pencils when ours ran out. Because middle school girls like high school, college, grown up and aging gracefully girls are obsessed with their hair just as Marianne pointed out. Not only did we not want to be bald (or unceremoniously cut short) we also couldn't be associated with baldness.
Then, of course, it happened to me. But instead of lice, I got ringworm after using my older cousin's comb. My mom had expressly told me not to let LaVerne (not her name) brush my hair during our monthly sleepover because she had "an issue." That night, though, my head was swimming with so many of the new bad words LaVerne had taught me like "hooker" and "jerk" that I forgot my mom's ominous warning and came back home with something else swimming on my head -- hair-loss-causing fungi. Frances was sooo pissed.
Thankfully my ringworm outbreak was right in the middle of my head so instead of going full Sphynx, which would have ended my career as a part-time mean girl, I wore a really high side pony, which was all the rage in 1992. No there are not pictures.
My brief hair loss scare was so severe that nearly 20 years later I am STILL checking for baldness. So you can imagine my current freak-out over my dog's recent ringworm diagnosis. Miles has got goddamn ringworm, ya'll! To say that I'm itching all over with imaginary creepy crawlies would be like saying fire is hot.
How bad is this? Miles doesn't seem to give a care, but I'm freaking the freak out.
I left Miles at the vet for a week while I was on vacation. When I went to pick him up the first thing Dr. Vet said was, "Yeah he's gonna have to come back." After registering a more than normal amount of concern for my tiny guy, the next thing I thought was, What about me?! Dr. Vet said I have to wash my hands after any contact with Miles.
"I'm serious, Ms. Andrews. A lot of owners don't listen and wonder why their hair is coming out." Then my scalp caught on fake fire. I've been scratching every-which-a-where like a paranoid "high person" which, as it so happens, is exactly what Dr. Vet told me NOT to do.
Currently I'm Googling every natural method besides washing with soap to prevent me from getting ringworm from Miles, which according to webMd is pretty hard to do, but still. I'm taking no chances. Does anyone have experience with this? If so tell me everything!
The suitcase in the background is Miles'. He's moving away because I let this happen!