Nits – an acrostic poem

Nits have
infiltrated our house. Again.
this time, with leftover
supplies waiting at the
back of a kitchen cupboard, I was ready
loathing – as ever – to hear the cries:
ow!
ow!
don’t hurt! I want you to
stop!
undeterred, plastic-gloved, my role as
chemical
killer
is finally done.
nits (well, lice, technically)(as you’re probably aware)
glide away, no match for conditioners and
metal-pronged combs
out they come;
the ones still living, scrabbling back for the
hair, scalp, their
everything that matters
really, is it
fitting?
unfair? to reign such vengeance upon these
creatures?
keira may understand
eventually. and
riley? a
simple sentence: “number 1 cut, or number 2?”