Family experaince of head lice

The woman continued talking -- "It was the daycare, they let the kid who started it come back after one day!" -- as Mucci strapped on a magnifying visor and headlamp, covered the dining room table with clean towels and rows of sterile implements, and trained two bright lamps on the scalp of the child who had recently been relieved of most of his hair.
With a thin bamboo stick of the sort used for kebabs, Mucci lifted up small sections of the remaining hair and peered at them. "The key is eliminating not just the bugs but the nits. Start at the hot spots, the nape of the neck and around the ears," she instructed, then ran an electric comb through the child's hair. "If it stops humming, it's killed a live louse," she said, then pronounced him bug-free.
"See, hon? You did a great job!" the man told his wife, nearly dancing off to work after Mucci checked him and gently noted that while he did not have lice, he might want to invest in some dandruff shampoo. After the woman was also cleared, she studied Mucci's neatly labelled samples of nits and lice in plastic sandwich bags, and asked, "Where did lice originate, anyway?"
"There were lice combs in Cleopatra's tomb," said Mucci, inspecting the older boy's head, "and here is a nit." But it was too tiny, and too close to his hair's shade of brown -- "Nits are not white, like most people think," she said -- for anyone else to detect.
Mucci massaged a blend of NitPickers Secret Concentrate and hair conditioner into the boy's scalp, covered his head with a shower cap for five minutes, then combed out the mixture with an exceedingly fine-toothed NitFree Terminator -- "the only comb that works without tearing the hair" -- stopping every 10 seconds to wipe it on a clean paper towel and count the tiny brown specks. "About 60," she decided.