Here’s the question of the day. How do you break it to spouse that you’ve messed up somehow? Now, this is no divorce-causing issue, but egg on the face aside, not fun. Speaking about “egg on the face”, recently daughter was embarrassed about a fall she made so she said she had egg on her face. Another well-disciplined child chimed in, is it Boiled? I’ve already reserved a seat in Oslo when she earns her Nobel.
Yesterday, I took kids to indoor pool at the gym so that we could spend some fun time together on our day off. We had fun, but son decided he had to use the restroom during lunch. As I was taking him, daughter asked if she could eat the rest of his crusts while he was gone. He said yes and then upon returning after they had been eaten, threw a three-year-old temper tantrum about his missing crusts. Meanwhile, on the way home, son alerts us that he HAS TO GO! We have to pullover into a gas station and use its facility. This, of course, was nowhere near as clean as the gym restroom we’d just been at.
The restroom has been the cornerstone of conversation in my household for years. If wife and I aren’t constantly asking or telling kids to go to the potty, one of them is in the downstairs potty while the other needs to go. Daughter would go upstairs; son, no. Sometimes, I have to beg daughter to hurry up so that little brother can use it. This doesn’t even count the extra time spent on family car trips trying to time potty breaks for two kids, two adults.
What I never understand is how toilets get so dirty; yes, I know how they get dirty…I want to know why they get so dirty so fast and stay that way. Public restrooms are gross. I pray every time I take son into one that he won’t touch anything. But he does. At least he doesn’t pick up poop from the playground like a recent visit to a park demonstrated. Child’s dad was furious as he attempted to banish fecal matter from her hands in the same restroom where now I’m really hoping my son doesn’t touch anything.
I am not a germaphobe. Seriously. I think the root cause for my concern stems from the idea that people don’t take care of their surroundings and are basically slobs. One time long ago, in a galaxy far away, I worked as a Barista at Starbucks. While I was emptying the trash, a patron hurled a half full Frappacino into the can striking my chest and never a word of apology. I’ve noticed that many people in the ’05 live in McMansions and forget they weren’t always wealthy. Daughter did a pollution project and wanted to spend her Satuday cleaning up the side of the road near our house where she’d seen trash.
I attempt to be forthright and let kids and wife know how I feel and I stress taking care of the world around us. The truth is, if one person can’t be bothered to pick up a napkin they’ve dropped, what hope does the Ozone layer have?