“Oh, yes… that’s lovely! Mmm… Don’t stop!” I’d never felt anything like this before. “Wow!”
She did stop at that point, but I didn’t mind; I was curious to see what had just had me in raptures.
“What is it, exactly?” I asked.
“It’s a Stress Relief Head Massager,” she replied, holding up a contraption that resembled a huge, ten-legged spider with a wooden knob on top of it – or, to be less dramatic, an open-ended balloon whisk with little blobs on.
How could this thing cause such delight? She continued to gently apply the bendy wire gadget, as it probed this way and that across my scalp.
“Ugh, Mum, you’ve got head lice! You’ve been at the Junior School reading to those kids again, haven’t you? I was going to ask you to use the massager on me, but not now. Yuk - it is not all pleasure, this exploration.”
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