I spend Monday combing, combing, combing. My daughter and I have a rampant case of head lice. I’ve never had them before, and find the tiny crawling bugs to be just about the ickiest thing I’ve ever encountered. The Bump is grimly fascinated with the concept of having eggs in her hair.
I spend Tuesday night in the dodgiest hotel on earth.
That might be a slight exaggeration. but only by a little bit. Albury is not known for its glamour.
The kidlets and I are driving to Sydney, for my brother’s engagement party. It’s a long haul– eight hours. But cheaper, marginally, to drive rather than fly, even with two night’s accommodation tacked on top of petrol costs. So that is what we do.
The reception office at this hotel is locked. Checking in requires walking the kidlets through a grotty, dingy pub, and presenting ourselves at the bar. It smells like cigarette smoke and footy. It’s an old scent, ground into the grungy carpet. It’s as old as the barflys themselves.
I take my kids out to eat Maccas for dinner and burn off some of that accumulated energy from sitting in the car for hours. They are good travellers, both of them. It’s one of those parenting oxymorons– three hours in the car leaves me exhausted, but them wired.
Our hotel room is tiny, three beds crammed into one room. A bar fridge and kettle hidden in a cupboard. A bathroom with the very basics. A letter from the local police constable, reminding us to lock up our car and hotel room and keep the blinds drawn, is tucked into the hotel service book. The Foxtel channels don’t work, nor does the wifi. The three of us curl into the double bed and watch movies on my iPad.
I’m tired, so so tired. I have pimples on my face, my hair needs a good dye job. I’d underestimated how easy I had it, in TinyTrainTown. This full time parenting gig is hard slog.
But I’m loving my kids so hard right now. They are such a comfort, a balm to anxiety and adult fears. Right here, between them, their sleepy blonde heads on my lap… this is where I’m supposed to be.
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“The reception office at this hotel is locked. Checking in requires walking the kidlets through a grotty, dingy pub, and presenting ourselves at the bar”
Oh Lori, so sorry that Albury left such a bad taste in your mouth and bugs in your hair. Try Wodonga (on the Victorian side of the river) for you next visit. We promise to treat you better.
It’s okay Louise
I’ve made an executive decision to visit as many towns between here and Sydney as possible. Wodonga’s next on the list! x
One of those things they never tell you about parenting is just how much your children will give you. It’s got to be my favorite surprise.
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“It smells like cigarette smoke and footy. It’s an old scent, ground into the grungy carpet. It’s as old as the barflys themselves.”
Oh, oh. I know that smell. I grew up in a small coastal town pub (my mum worked there) and walking into some old pubs still gives me flashbacks to being a kid.
Glad your kidlets are bringing you such comfort on a lonely pub-hotel night…
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this http://www.microscopy-uk.org.uk/theliceprogram/theprogram.html holds the best advice I was ever given about nits. It explains about their life cycle, why they ‘come back’ and how to stop it, it shows how chemicals don’t work and what does work. It just takes time and dedication, cheap conditioner and a metal comb. Good Luck.
I think I already Tweeted you that hair dye is the sure-fire way to get rid of the creepies. AND you look fabulous. Your hair is short enough that for $10 and 20 minutes you should be set. Back when my daughter was about 8, she caught lice from spending the night with someone who had it…we did the shampooing and the combing…a week later they were back…we boiled the sheets, we got new pillows…we shampooed and combed…a week later, they were back, but not so many. We tried Tea Tree oil. Finally…hair dye.
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