Jesse's story

Morning. July 7th. Around 9:00. Jesse walks downstairs after about 10 hours of sleep.He is itching his head. He wants toast. The toast is about 3/4ths of the way toasted, when jesse's mother says "Why dont i check your head." She ruffles around through his long hair, and ocasionally says "hmm..." or "oh...". Suddenly she looks up. "this isnt good" she says "Jesse, i think you have headlice."