This piece was written for the weekly Six Sentence Story with the prompt of Clip.
In my old world, nits were removed with kerosene. Mothers bored into your ears to stop the potatoes growing in there and rubbed at your face with their spit on a handkerchief. Fathers twisted your ears as they dragged you to the scene of your latest sin and the local copper handled juvenile delinquency with the toe of his boot. Teachers clipped your ears to instil learning. I tell my grandson but he just scratches his head. Now where did I put that kerosene?