Post nit armageddon, I still feel itchy. Maybe it’s rather like having your leg off and still having the urge to scratch your bunion. My wrigglers may have died a nasty death but it feels like they’re still there. Maybe they haven’t all died at all. Maybe some brute of a louse, some Bruce Willis type, managed to hang on, despite having his legs broken and his eyes put out and his skin  burnt off. Maybe he’s biding his time and is going to come back more vile, more angry and more voracious than ever before. Eeee ba gum mother, there’s nowt as scary as an angry louse. Just don’t get too close to me – he’s probably a champion hurdler too.