The Trader Joe Incident.

I briefly mentioned this in an earlier blog, but wanted to dive into the full tale, as it has been on my mind lately since Naomi is now old enough to sit in restaurant high chairs, and we're once again getting dirty looks when we put the shopping car/high chair covers on first.


The part I mentioned earlier was thus: I once had a brazen and crotchety elderly gent at Trader Joe's comment on my shopping cart cover. This is approximately what took place:

Intrusive Dense Ignoramus Opining on my Techniques (hereafter IDIOT): "You know, you are doing a great disservice to you gnawing infant's immune system by protecting her from shopping cart germs."


Me: "OK buster, let's see YOU fucking lick this shopping cart handle, you rat bastaaaad. How do you like them fecal germs?"

(Is that Steve Carrell?)

Me, instead: "I just don't want her chewing on the cart, is all."

IDIOT: "But she'll never develop an immune system that way!"

Me: "Oh yeah, because swine flu and staphylococcus does wonders for a teeny tiny baby, ya got-damn moron."

Me, instead: "Oh, OK, oh well."

IDIOT: "Children need to be exposed to germs. You are doing her a great disservice."

Me: You already said that, IDIOT, so STFU and leave me and my clean, healthy infant alone. My baby is only 7 months old and needs to be exposed to stomach flu and pinkeye and the Grippe and Rosela and whooping cough and Consumption like I need a third nipple. On my forehead. And PS: You are full of horseshit.

Instead: "Oh, she gets plenty of germs; we have a dog and two cats at home" (which was true at the time). 

Now get this. He literally recoiled in horror, shocked to the core, and said (WAIT FOR IT)-- "Oh no! That's terrible!" (Verbatim.)

...I was like, "WHAT THE FUCK, SIR? WHAT THE FUCK??" 

I guess he wanted her to suck the everliving shit (pun intended) out of the shopping cart handle (including the fecal coliform and shigella thereon), but being exposed to household pets and their dander (which, by the way, is encouraged by the Hygiene Hypothesis) was just going WAY TOO FAR. Too, too far, sir. Too far indeed. Bum-bum germs and influenza for a tiny tiny baby, yes. Kittycat fur, no. OK then. 


I gave him my best o_O, mentally flipped the old fucker the bird, and went in search of some christing pita bread. 

Because really?

And haters still hate every time I wipe down the table in front of my children, that they might not consume the hand-germs of the 500 people before them, nor the bacteria of the damp, dank rag that gave a cursory wipe of the table moments before. It's sad that I'm made to feel ashamed to clean the things my baby will suck on, like the table, but that's how people make me feel. Oh well. Not gonna stop me from breaking out the Sani-Hand wipes.

Cherry, Bubblegum, or Varicella Flavor?

PHOENIX (KPHO) -
Doctors and medical experts are concerned about a new trend taking place on Facebook. Parents are trading live viruses through the mail in order to infect their children.


My BFF Mandi recently brought this to my attention. People are sending viral infections in the mail. Viral Infections. In the Mail. Motherfucking viruses in the USPS motherfucking mail. Varicella (chickenpox), to be specific. Some people are actually attempting this for measles, mumps, and rubella. Why, God, why? We have vaccinations against these, people! Vaccinations!!

It's like, "here's your 2011 newsy newsletter, the kids are all right, here's what we've done the past year, little Janie is off to school, oh, and here's a snotwad lozenge of rubella. No big."

They are mailing tainted lollipops, wet rags, and clothing, all covered with saliva and the like, whereupon you let your child suck away to his heart's content on a herpes-zoster pop (MMM) or perhaps scrub a nice wet rag covered with mump and pox debris all about your previous poor poor mump- and pox-free person.

My horror is so great I can't even.

Now, I'm sure a lot of you have heard of chickenpox parties, where one kid has chickenpox and mothers choose to get their kids together with the sickie to expose their chidren young so that they get their kids catch the virus and get it over and done with as children, when it's less likely to be dangerous. (The virus can be pretty vile if you catch it as an adult.) There are wildly mixed feelings on this, but it's a pretty old-fashioned idea, especially now that there's a vaccine. Although I confess, this partic'alar one was the hardest decision I made as a vaccinating mother.

Now, the vaccine of course is imperfect. Not only can there be (very very rare) complications like it as with any vaccine, but it doesn't guarantee your child will never catch chickenpox. It just drastically cuts down on any severe case or horrible, life-threatening reaction. Dr. Swanson says "We’re giving the shot to prevent the serious, life-threatening complications that can come along with the virus, such as a brain infection or flesh-eating bacteria in the sores."

Mmm. Flesh eating bacteria all because of a simple childhood illness.

Warning. Warning. Click at your leisure, if you have a strong stomach.

I confess, this was the most difficult vaccine for me to come to terms with. I do understand both sides of the equation here. We personally stagger vaccines and delay them, some by weeks or months (MMR), some by years (like Hep and and B), although we DO vaccinate. I was all about the Pertussis vaccine, for example. Whooping cough scares the living shit out of me. The only vaccine we semi-purposely, semi-accidentally we skipped altogether was Rotavirus, because (1) getting a case of the trots didn't seem like a big deal or worth taking any potential vaccine risk; and (2) we accidentally waited too long and Maya couldn't get it anyway (they're supposed to get it before six months old I think, oops). (She still hasn't caught it by age four, I'll have you know.) But we thought long and hard before getting the varicella vaccine, and finally conceded. I mean, who wants their kid to get a raging case of chickenpox?

I had a terribly bad case as a tiny two-year-old kid. My mom said I was in agony and would just sit there and shake and quake and writhe and sob, itching so desperately but not knowing what to do with myself because I was too young to know how to scratch. Any chance I have to reduce the chances of my child going through that, I'll take. And if she didn't get lifelong immunity and needs a booster in 10 years? Who the fuck cares? If that's the main problems with the varicella shot, that (1) it's not a 100% guarantee and (2) you'll need boosters, wowee, big whoop. And some people say that it sets you up for being prone to getting shingles later in life. I'll have you know what I had about the worst natural case of the pox I could possiblty have and only a few months ago, I broke out in the dreaded shingles. So you never know. It's all kind of a crapshoot, but I erred of the side of protecting my kidlets.

I REPEAT: I don't even want my kids licking "clean" saliva off a lollipop. what has this world come to?

Anyway, I digress.

It's totally up to you whether you want to get the vaccination or not. I understand both sides. But you might want to skip the tainted-lollipop 2001 Chickenpox Internet Party approach. Just a word of advice you might want to heed: "It is a federal offense to mail infectious agents in the mail." A FEDERAL OFFENSE, people.

So keep your germ-lollies to your self. Criminy. It's on par with sending Anthrax through the mail. Would you ever do that? I didn't think do. So listen. I don't even want my child to suck on your pristine disease-FREE saliva-covered sucker, not to mention your sucker covered in a viral infection. So please keep your herpes zoster and your rubella to your DAMN selves, thxusovmuch.

Ass Soup & Crack'ers.

Why do people take baths together? Why, in the name of the Father, the son, and the holy toast, why?

Isn't it just sitting there stewing in what I have deemed Ass Soup?

Oooh. Nothing says I love you like butt-soap froth on your face.

Solo baths are bad enough. When I want to take a bath, I shower first. It's just a Thing I Do. I wash all my bits in the shower, and then I soak in the tub, fresh as the proverbial daisy. I realize this is just too much effort for the vast majority of the American Public at Large. That it just doesn't occur to people to wash their asses before soaking in butt stew. But to soak with another person in butt stew, hiney goulash, or ass soup...it just--I--you can't--you must--you fucking have to realize, THAT'S. JUST. GROSS.

Because...because...

ASS SOUP.

Now listen. I've done it. I've taken baths with boys before. WHOA, SHOCKER.

But I have. I've done it. And it was que romántica, especially as we lounged there to a CD full of soft Celtic tunes. But that was years ago, long before my OCD took a sharp turn for the worse.

And now, those romantic baths of yore are Right Out. Right out. Sorry, husband.

We also have a hot tub, and even though that bitch is chlorifuckinated to the max, I STILL have a hard time soaking in it with someone.

Before heading out to go lounge in it for a bit with my main man, I will ask nonchalantly, "How's your ass?" And he will answer without hesitation, "Pristine." Because he knows I don't even want to soak in a hot tub full of CHLORINE BLEACH-WATER with someone else's ass. That's OCD for ya.

[I'm sorry, I'd add one of my awesome pictures here, but Googling "two butts in a hot tub" did not yield any image results that I want my husband to see when he reads my blog. Sorry honey."]


Wait! Here's a safe one.

 What what, chicken butt!!

And another!

If that don't want to make you soak in butt stew, I don't know what will.

But still. All you people who take baths with your significant others. How do you do it? I've done it, in the ancient past, but remind me: How do you do it? Doesn't it bother you? Do you mind? Do you shower first? Will you still do it now that I've brought it to your attention? Will you now wonder, WWJD (What Would Jo Do)? Will you now forevermore be a little squicked out by sitting in bum-bum chowder? You're welcome.

Q & A

Let's do a Q & A session. The first of many. I'm sure I'll do this again later.

But I'm curious, do you have any questions for me? Some of you ask questions in the comments, which I always enjoy. They either get me thinking, or they make me smile because they are already topics I plan to discuss and I'm like, "Great minds think alike, baby!"

So I'll leave this open today. Is there anything, anything at all, you wonder about?

Ask away, child. Ask away. Feel free to ask anonymously too. I'll answer in another post later.

Bum Raps.

Years ago, Terrence Howard said something that had ladies all across the land up in arms. Here is what he said, when asked what his relationship "deal-breakers" were:

"Toilet paper - and no baby wipes - in the bathroom. If they're using dry paper, they aren't washing all of themselves. It's just unclean. So if I go in a woman's house and see the toilet paper there, I'll explain this. And if she doesn't make the adjustment to baby wipes, I'll know she's not completely clean."

People freaked out. People lost it. People flipped their shits (pun intended). Me? I was kinda like,

Women all over started accusing him of hating women, of being a misogynist, of being a disgusting pig of a man.

I beg to differ.

I don't think he was saying women and parts specific only to women are gross and dirty and filthy. I don't think he was one step away from ranting about how women should cover up their dirty pillows.

I don't think he had to have been specifically talking about women at all, or girlybits, except that he was asked what deal-breakers were in a relationship with women. I don't think he was saying a lady-garden was gross or needed superfluous attention or that he wouldn't give you some lovin if you didn't douche with Lysol.

I think he was saying bum-bums are nasty, Which they are, and dry toilet paper does not do the trick, Which it doesn't, whether you are male or female, Which is the truth.

We here at Poop on a Hot Tin Slide are a baby-wipe family. It's just the Slider House Rules. We have baby wipes on every toilet tank in the house, and by Maya's little potty chair. I mean, people don't wipe sweet little infant bum-bums with dry toilet paper, do they? Because that would be disgusting and would never, ever get them clean, correct? It would just smear it about?

So why do we scrub at our own bum-bums with dry scratchy paper and call it good? 

(Can I just say as a sidenote, I wonder how many FBI watch-lists I'm on because of how many times a day I search Google Images for things like, "baby butts," "tiny bum bums," "kids bending over," etc."? ...)

Anyway, I feel the same way Terrence Howard does about adults needing to use baby wipes too. Why do I want to get frisky with someone and slip a playful hand down his trou to tweak a cheek if he isn't a baby-wipe kind of dude? Why do I want to take a bath with* or hop in a sexy sexy hot tub with anyone who hasn't thoroughly wet-wiped their crack until it is positively gleaming?

* Well, the answer is, I don't. But that's a story for another time, child.

Anyway, I think Terrence Howard got a bum rap (pun intended). Ba dum bum (pun intended).  Poor guy just meant that scrubbing about at your poopy rear-end with some scratchedy-ass paper (or is that scratchedy ass-paper? Oh hyphen you mock me) isn't going to get you pristine. He didn't say girls is nasty.

Mr. Howard, I salute and support you. Wet wipes for one and for all, not just for babies.

Monday Musings.

Can you even imagine all the bum-bum germs in a foam party? That shit can't be chlorinated. And I mean, it's soap, but so is the filthy stuff you rinse OFF your hands. Soap doesn't automatically make it clean. Soap doesn't disinfect ALL THOSE DANCING BUM-BUMS.

You think you're having good, soapy fun...

But here's what's really going on:

Hoookay...y'all g'head and enjoy your sudsy sudsy bum-bum germs! 

...I'll sit this one out.

PS: You'll probably have to be a regular, long-time reader 'round these parts to fully appreciate that second photo and all its component bits. snort.

Fun Friendly Phobic Fact Friday!

Next time you are out shopping, please ignore the stinkeye of other, more granola shoppers* and put your child in one of these:

* I once had a brazen elderly gent at Trader Joe's tell me I was doing a great disservice to my gnawing infant 's immune system by protecting her from shopping cart germs. I wanted to tell him, "OK buster, let's see YOU fucking lick this shopping cart handle, you rat bastaaaad."

I mean CUB OD. (PS: Steve Carrell, is that you?)

FACT: Dr. Charles Gerba, Ph.D., is an internationally renowned environmental microbiologist and is also known much to my amusement as Dr. Germ. Here are his thoughts on the matter.

"Those covers made for the seat area of the shopping cart were created for good reason: 'We find more E. coli on shopping carts than on toilet seats,' Dr. Gerba says. 'In addition to germs from food [and grubby grubby hands], children’s dirty bottoms are going in the seat—and the carts are hardly ever cleaned.' " 

Bum-bums galore, I tell you!

He continues--

"The checkout screens where you swipe your credit or ATM card aren’t great, either. In some grocery stores, up to 80% have E. coli on them—likely picked up from people handling leaky meat packages and unwashed produce, then touching the screen. Another germy spot: Your reusable grocery bag. Yes, you’re being environmentally conscious, but bacteria from meat and produce from your last trip are probably still in there. 'Only 3% of people surveyed say they have ever washed their totes, and half use them for carrying other things, like dirty clothes,' Dr. Gerba says. 'That’s like hauling your groceries home in your dirty underwear.'"

Sorry, Bob. Sorry, Larry.

Grocery cart covers serve a purpose! Use yours with pride!
And screw those old crotchety men who try to tell you otherwise!

High School Daze.

I know I've struggled with being a germaphobe for at least the last 20 years, but I'm not quite sure when my OCD took a sharp left and really, really became hardcore.

Like, when did it really became life-alteringly bad? You know, I remember back in high school, I was a pretty damn hardcore germaphobe. I remember being a fierce handwasher, and I remember just as fiercely refusing, to the detriment of my all-important school popularity, to share my hairbrush. But then again, I also remember using the water fountain *shudder*, something I'd never in a million years do nowadays.

Is that the jankiest photo editing you ever done seen? lul.

I do remember noticing and being utterly horrified concerned about the actions of others. I remember telling you guys about how my friend Joy would say she didn't need to wash her hands after using the school bathroom because, inexplicably, "she had already showered that morning." As if showers "stuck."

O_O

I just--I mean--I can't--I--I--

Anyway. That kind of thing drove me nuts. It grossed me out beyond belief. I remember being disgusted when I'd see fellow students walk out after not using that gritty, sandy pink powder soap (remember that shit??)--

--to scrub up after using the bathroom. But my gross-out didn't practically disable me. Whereas nowadays, if I was hanging out with someone who didn't wash, I would either need a full-on Hazmat suit in order to continue our day date/play date, or I would have to bid them adieu for the day and go home and take a rape-shower.

Back then, I would just think, "You are a sick, gross individual, and I will not share your Funyuns at lunch time. Carrying on." And I would. I would carry on. Without dwelling. WITHOUT DWELLING.

And back then, in high school, I had approx. 790 homework assignments per night. It didn't help that I was in Advanced Everything. Advanced Placement English. Honors History. Honors Science. Calculus in 9th grade. Gym Class for Superstars. Just kidding about that last one, I was a fat lazy fuck.

I took home about seven enormous, giant, three-pounds-each textbooks per night, plus my hugely overstuffed binder, plus all manner of extraneous shits. I was also playing it cool by carrying my backpack on one shoulder as opposed to wearing the backpack properly on two shoulders. And FORGET the strap that went around your middle inn order to evenly distribute the weight so that you would not end up a hunchback. First, my middle was far too large in those days for such shenanigans. Second, I mean, come on, fucking DORKY. I mean, shut up.

I have a point somewhere, bear with me.

So...cutting to the chase, I took home with me book after book of homework, and never once did it occur to me to disinfect or Lysol or Clorox off the covers of textbooks that I was using. (1) Because my BFFs Lysol and Clorox wipes hadn't been invented yet, dammit; and (2) because it just didn't goddamn occur to me. Because while I was germ obsessed, I wasn't That OCD yet. This was both good and bad. Bad because I surely brought home myriad horrific high school germs with me and unwittingly shoved them up my nose and got sick, but Good because I wasn't a raging paranoiac yet.

I blog about this now because, the point is, now I AM a raging paranoiac. What am I to do when Maya or Naomi is in school and, every single day of her life, brings home 6 or 8 textbooks plus a PeeChee or Trapper Keeper or two? 

Shall I Clorox off those bitches before I allow her to run some mathematical proofs? Shall I spritz them with Lysol before I allow her to calculate the circumference of whatever the fuck? I just don't know.

I am glad on one hand that my OCD wasn't quite this bad during my high school days, but now it IS this bad. So what am I supposed to do when my kids are in junior high or high school? It's bad enough now that one of my children is in PRE-fucking-SCHOOL. But I can deal with wiping down a lunch box and quarantining a backpack like it's got the bubonic plague. But when it comes to math textbooks and history textbooks, shit, son, am I really going to say, "Hi honey, welcome home, I made you some snickerdoodles, now let's use some medical-grade CaviWipes on your English lit book before we get started on your homework?"

It's s hard. I do, but I don't, want to pass on The Crazy. I do, and I don't. I don't, and I do.