When I was in eighth grade my mom took me to get my hair cut at her salon. It was a real treat. She was also getting her hair colored and cut. The girl washed my hair and when she was combing it she kept looking at it real close. She then called another girl over and together had disgusted looks on their faces. Turns out I had a nice case of head lice erupting on my scalp. They made me stand up and walk out of the salon while they followed spraying some sort of disinfectant after me. I had to sit outside of the salon. Now don't you worry, this didn't interfere with my mom getting her hair done. She let me sit outside scratching away as she got all glammed up. A few weeks prior, a note came home from school about an outbreak of head lice. I read the letter and told my mom I thought I had it. She blew me off by saying, you're crazy, you don't have lice. Never even giving my head a once over. So that's what I thought about while sitting there outside of that salon. Humiliated. Watching my mom through the glass.
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