Why Mommy Bloggers shouldn't go to Hollywood events

One of the things I love most about blogging is that it’s allowed me to see the humor in otherwise unamusing scenarios: The black sharpie that Lily used to label the belongings in my room, the red one that Ben used to decorate his brother, the frustration of not getting the perfect picture… I could go on all night. This blog let’s me see humor in what would have annoyed or infuriated me before. It’s a really good thing.

Except, now I find myself in a situation that I can find no humor in at all. Lice has invaded my house, and there ain’t nothing funny about it. The fact that I’m up to my armpits in laundry isn’t amusing at all. The fact that we’ve all had to endure shampoo treatments that smell so bad our eyes tear and gag reflexes kick in isn’t amusing at all. The fact that every stuffed animal and doll is bagged up in the basement isn’t amusing at all. And the fact that I’m paying a mobile lice specialist $100 an hour tomorrow to ensure that all nits are out of our heads certainly isn’t amusing.

The thought that I could have potentially infected Uma Thurman with lice, causing an A-list Hollywood breakout? The thought does amuse me. Just the teeniest bit.

{Disclaimer: My husband told me not to publish this post. I rarely show him posts beforehand, but wanted his thoughts on this one. He said it was mean spirited. I say he’s being ridiculous– I’m not implying that I *want* Uma to have lice or that I intentionally spread it to her, but the image of Entertainment Tonight reporting on an outbreak that can be traced back to me makes me laugh. Sue me.}