This morning, I overslept. My head was still spinning over the thought of lice being everywhere, so my dreams turned into complete nonsense.
Just imagine—I dreamed I was being chased by a giant louse monster. Its belly was ridiculously huge, too. I almost got eaten, but luckily, I woke up first.
Last night's conversation with my wife was still going around and around in my head.
I left the bedroom and saw my wife cooking something in the kitchen.
“So, babe? Are we keeping lice as pets?” I asked right away. I didn't want to carry that question with me all the way to the office.
My wife smiled.
Behind that smile, there were usually two possibilities beyond my expectations as a husband on high alert.
First: the mission to keep lice as pets really was going to become reality.
Second: the lice-keeping mission was canceled, but there would be an even more dangerous follow-up mission.
Yes, dangerous!
“Uh... how should I put this?” my wife replied hesitantly. My gut told me she was still wavering over whether to raise lice on her own head.
I patiently waited five minutes for my wife to answer. Even though, in those five minutes, I could've washed my face, brushed my teeth, and washed a pair of clothes.
My wife turned off the stove, then turned to face me.
“Before I went to sleep last night, I scrolled through Google for a while. Apparently, keeping lice makes your hair fall out, ruins your concentration, and keeps you from sleeping well.”
True. For once, I agreed with Google.
“But the thing is, keeping lice isn't difficult. Lice can find their own food.”
Yeah, but your head is the one that becomes their victim!
I kept listening carefully to my wife's explanation.
“There’s even a story about it, Angah.”
I nodded, letting my wife continue.
“According to the article I read, this girl was incredibly smart at school. She was always number one. Whenever someone asked her a question, she could answer right away. The problem was...” My wife took a deep breath.
“...she didn't realize there were lice on her head. Now she can't concentrate anymore, can't focus, and whenever someone asks her something, all she says is, ‘I don't know. I don't understand.’”
My wife picked up an orange and offered me half, but I immediately turned it down. In the end, she just pouted.
“What grade was this girl in, anyway, sweetheart?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood.
“Second grade.”
I smacked my forehead.
What the heck?
“But, Angah,” my wife stopped me. I had been about to hurry to the bathroom. There was business that needed taking care of.
“I still want to keep lice.”
I raised one eyebrow.
“On Angah’s head. Is that okay?” My wife clasped her hands over her chest, her eyes sparkling with hopeful anticipation.
I immediately smacked both ears, left and right.
I was afraid I'd heard wrong.
But the moment I saw my wife's face, I knew my ears were still working perfectly.
“Can I borrow Angah’s head for a little while?”
Yep, I definitely hadn't heard wrong!
I smacked the wall.
The problem was, I'd just gotten a haircut. Lice couldn't live peacefully and happily on a head with barely any hair.
But if I rejected my wife's request, that would basically mean I didn't appreciate her. So I offered her another alternative.
“When do you want to start keeping the lice?”
“Right now, Angah!”
“If we do it now, Big Brother's hair is still short. What if we wait three weeks?”
“Oh, is that how it is?” My wife's voice immediately turned sad. “Then I'll just find a wet-land host I can pay.”
I instantly got a bad feeling.
“Leaving them with Mas Yu next door might be a good idea. It sounds more promising.”
I stared blankly ahead, thinking fast for five seconds.
“Mas Wahyu?” I asked. My wife immediately nodded.
“If we leave them with Mas Yu, I won't have to go through all the trouble of looking for lice. I'd be able to spot them with just one glance.”
My mouth fell open for a second, then I burst out laughing so hard my stomach hurt.
The problem was, though...
“Mas Wahyu doesn't have any hair, babe!”
“Not even a little? Just a ti-ny bit. Somewhere?” My wife flicked the tip of her pinky through the air.
I glanced toward the window. Mas Wahyu was out there sweeping the yard.
“HE'S BALD, BABE. COMPLETELY BARE!”
Oh my God!
I kept laughing so hard that I didn't even realize I'd peed my pants.