Try Not To Laugh

I feel the laughter welling up inside like a shaken bottle of soda ready to explode. I try to hold it together as my precious little one conveys the most serious condition of a school mate.

“Mommy, we need to pray for Becca. She has a lizard, so she had to go home until her mommy takes care of her. Becca was so sad to miss school, but the teacher told us that her mommy knows how to take care of the lizard.”

Utterly confused, I respond, “Erica, how do you know she has a lizard?”

“Mom, because the teacher found,” Erica begins to whisper with her face contorted, “lizard poopy in Becca’s hair.”

“What?” I gasp.

“Becca has lizard poop in her hair and she can’t come back to school until it is all gone. Don’t worry, Mom, the teacher checked everyone’s hair, even mine. The teacher told me I didn’t have any. I told the teacher we had a dog, not a lizard, but she said she had to check everyone’s hair.”

“Mommy, I tried to tell her that we put the dog poop in a bag and throw it away, but the teacher kept saying she had to check.”

I can’t contain it anymore, I burst out laughing. Lizard poop = Lice. So glad my little one doesn’t have any!