I become increasingly germophobic, daily. It surprises me. Maybe it’s just a phase coinciding with the small children I need to protect. I mean, I wash my hands all day long, but it’s usually because there’s baby feces on them. But I realized yesterday I didn’t want to pet the cat (we have a foster cat in the house to fight mice) because then I’d need to wash my hands and I couldn’t be bothered.
When I touch something dirty now, I actually FEEL it on my skin until it’s washed. I hold that hand aside, protecting the world from its contact.
So maybe I’m losing yet another carefree part of myself as I grow older and things like “health” seem more and more important. Why did I put health in quotes? Wait. Do I secretly believe that “health” doesn’t exist? Wait again. I was trying to be funny just now, but I think I hit on something. I totally, in my heart of hearts, deeply and truly believe that 98% of my health and well-being is fully imaginary.
And I believe that’s a profoundly healthy attitude. Anyhow…
Speaking of dirt, I live in a mouse-infested industrial building on the outskirts of an EPA Superfund site – the ever-stinky Gowanus Canal. Brooklyn is a grubby place at best and I love it. I moved to New York City almost 20 years ago and aside from two years in Jersey City during college, I haven’t left. I like the dirt I guess. I like the graffiti. I like this worn-out, beaten-down, shit-stained city. It’s punk fucking rock. Aesthetically, it’s perfect for me. It’s why I chose this place. I just wash my hands when I get inside my apartment, is all.
This is a picture of the diaper changing table in a popular coffee shop in Park Slope Brooklyn:
There are a few conditions that would let me drop my heightened awareness of germs and put my babies’ asses on this:
– apocalypse (dissolution of modern society, gangs of flesh-eating mutants, etc.)
– shitpocalypse (overflowing shitsplosion, oozing out from the confines of a diaper, etc.)
That caught my eye. Then I looked to its left and saw a poster for upcoming events at the coffee shop. Flyers are awesome.
I’m no stickler for grammar, but I do love literate music by signer-songerwriters. It’s rare to find, but worth it when you do.
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I tried pronouncing “shitpocalypse” but I couldn’t do it.
So I tried pronouncing “apocalypse” bit I couldn’t do it.
I must be hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobic.
I was thinking here that it’s good for children to be dirty, and about how I let my kids get filthy (Dickensian urchin filthy) on a daily basis, and that you shouldn’t worry so much about the germs on your kids. But then it occurred to me that there’s probably less human urine in my suburban dirt.
I’m trying to find a balance between letting them strengthen their immune system and allowing them to catch gonorrhea before their first birthday.