I Met A Cherub Today

As I tightly pulled my hair into a French braid not letting one strand stray, still tying to mentally figure out how I was bamboozled into this one, I had no idea in just a few short hours I would look back on this task with gratitude.

Cathy, the other unlucky parent volunteer, and I grabbed the lice-checking kit, got a class roster for the two classes we would be doing today, and with no great hurry or conviction. lollygagged our way to the classrooms. We donned rubber gloves and armed ourselves with disposable sticks to separate and poke through the kids' hair, and in pairs, we called the kids out of their class.

Out the kids came, and one by one we went on a hunt for those impossible to get rid of little bugs. We saw a few with eggs, a few with bad dandruff and I saw one kid who in Grade 4 has more gray hair than me!

As Cathy popped her head into the class for the next two, only one came out. I called for the other one again and he repeatedly dodged me, running to the far end of the class, other kids yelling for him to come and see me.

There was a substitute teacher there today who was a little confused about what to do. So when I finally was able to walk up to this little guy as he leaned against the door frame, I realized in a split second he was not avoiding me to be difficult or troublesome. In fact, there was an absolutely blazing terror in his eyes about me going near him.