The reason for my blogging silence this week has been down to the fact my fingers have been otherwise occupied with pulling dead insects out of my daughter’s hair. At times the three of us have resembled a small troupe of gorillas picking fleas out of each other’s fur. Well John got off. He’s the bald gorilla.

And Alula will soon be a baby bald gorilla because if they come back then I’m taking John’s razor to her head. Call me a bad mother for threatening that? Whatever. Better that razor than me jumping off the balcony.

I wasn’t sure I even had them but mention the word nit and – weird thing this – is your head itching? It is, isn’t it? Go on scratch. Scratch that itch. See. As soon as they told me Alula had nits I ran screaming into the bathroom and emptied the nit shampoo on myself. Without even checking if I had them.

Once lathered up I turned my attention to her. Alula hates having her hair shampooed even on the best of days – the days where we distract her with a chubba chup, so you can imagine how fun this was. We lathered, shampooed and combed through the screams, the cries and the hollers.

And we did this three days in a row, spending two hours nit picking, literally, whilst she screamed and yelled and I pleaded and bribed and cajoled. And everyday, they would be back. Alive. Despite the shampooing. They weren’t even bashful about it. It was like they were laughing at me as they careened down her centre part.

Eventually on the third day I almost collapsed in tears when I found yet another live one in her hair.

‘I can’t do this anymore,’ I said to John as if we were lead characters in an Aronofsky film.

‘You do realize,’ John said, ‘that the nit shampoo you’re using says no pesticide on it don’t you?’

‘What? What?’ I yelled tearing into the bathroom and ransacking the cupboard.

‘But, but,’ I spluttered. ‘I bought this shampoo in Boots (see how prepared I was for what might come). I asked the lady behind the counter for the most effective one and she said this one.’

I check the ingredients on the back. Tea tree oil. Neem oil. Basically the equivalent of asking a nit to please go away we’d be ever so grateful. When what is called for in shampoo terms is a punch to the face and a now fuck the fuck off.

I threw the bottle to the floor and sent John out with instructions to locate the most toxic, FDA banned, chemical lice busting shampoo available on the Balinese black market. Preferably one with a black skull on the bottle and a cross through it.

He came back with something pink. The ingredients list was non existant. I hovered with my fingers over my laptop thinking I should google the name but I stopped myself in case it said that it caused irreparable brain damage or had been banned in 243 countries after tests revealed it made your head fall off.

Instead we poured the entire contents on Alula’s head and then wrapped her in clingfilm over night (her head at least).

And guess what? Chemicals work people.

Tea tree oil based Lyclear can fuck the fuck off.