As usual this morning I woke up and spent a moment checking my twitter feed. I tweeted “The sun is shining and life is good”. So I suppose you could say that I asked for what happened next. That I requested a downgrade on my day by being a little bit too pleased with my life and coming off as smug.

Next I’m in the kitchen and Super Kid wanders in scratching his head. “Mummy my head is itchy” he tells me. I bend over him to take a look and am greeted by a large wingless insect lounging on a deckchair, reading The Guardian. Ok so it wasn’t on a deckchair, but if head lice had a paper of choice I’m pretty sure The Guardian would be the only one liberal enough to accept their readership.

Inside I panic. I’m not great with creepy crawlies at the best of times. Creepy crawlies that are living on my son’s head, drinking his blood and setting up home on his scalp properly freak me out!

However I’m a good enough parent not to follow my instinct and shout to Purpledad “DARLIN SUPER KID HAS NITS, alert the authorities and grab contamination suits and napalm immediately”. Instead, I calmly tell Super Kid not to worry, grab my iPad and tweet about my predicament. I get scores of replies very quickly with answers ranging from ‘keep calm and use a nit comb’ to ‘get all the chemicals you can muster and attack the little blighters’.

Then I spy out of the corner of my eye the electric shaver that I use on my husband for his two monthly shearing. ‘Do I shave my son’s head?’ I tweet. Unfortunately before awaiting a response, and obviously with my son’s approval I make a snap decision and give him a grade four. Then I turn back to twitter where I am greeted by a collective ‘noooo’.

Ah well, his hair looks fine and there are definitely now less nits, I decide. I take him to school and head to the chemist to stock up ready for the lice war on his return. I grab nit combs, and a product called Hedrin which apparently suffocates the lice. Seems kind of mean but it’s a war, and war can be cruel.

Following the nit combs instruction leaflet I comb the whole family. Lucky me I find lice on both other children (though not so many) and Purpledad finds a couple on me. He has escaped because of his thick hair and unpalatable blood (the blood part is not true but it makes me feel better). So Robo Boy gets a grade four too. Wonder Girl escapes with a thorough nit combing. We all cover our heads in Hedrin.

As I type I am sat with my greasy headrin covered head dripping nit napalm onto my pyjama top. I get to repeat the whole experience in a week to ensure that newly hatched eggs get zapped also. Despite this, and despite the tiny wingless creatures who have dominated my day I will stand by my earlier tweet, life is good.