Karl Barth’s wisdom for fathers (and mothers, and all children of God)

When my children were little, not a month went by when my wife and I didn’t get the letter from our kids’ school: “Your child has been exposed to head lice.” Three blocks from our house, there is an upscale salon devoted to nothing but nit-picking. When our kids caught lice they were unfazed. I wasn’t. I’d internalized the stigma from my childhood. We waited until after dark, then rushed down the street and through the nitpicker’s door. Flustered, I made a sad joke. Gesturing to my bald head, I told the receptionist, “I hope I don’t have them too.”

He replied, “Don’t worry. Dads never get lice. Moms do.” He pointed toward a few women, sitting patiently as the nitpickers did their work.

I didn’t understand. “Why not dads?”