I have a very sweet, very germ-o-phobic friend that reminds me very much of my own mother. This friend I’ll call, Germina carries her own booster seat for use in restaurants/cafes because apparently the clothed hiney of her daughter may not touch the surface of a booster seat. Granted they’re not always pristine so I’ve wiped one down before, that’s just one of the many uses of baby wipes right? Similarly she totes along a port-a-potty for her daughter to use - not just for on a long car trip - not just when out in public - but absolutely any and every time they’re anywhere that isn’t their home. Including the time they played at our house.

I swear I cleaned the house my best that morning, knowing that the possibility existed that they might come over. The house was spotless the cats had been left outside and the whole place smelled of a subtle yet calming lavender fragrance. Half way through the playdate Germina’s daughter jumps into her mothers arms and says, “I need to pee-pee, but I want to come back and play more.” I cheerfully responded, knowing the bathroom floor was clean enough to perform open-heart surgery on, “Go right ahead, the bathroom is right across the hall” I watch Germina’s face light up as she says, “Oh no it’s fine, I’ve got the porta-potty with me” my daughter and I watched in confusion as the two head out to relieve the situation in the back of her very expensive SUV. “Where’s she going? Is she coming back?!” my poor daughter wondered, “She’s going potty honey, she’ll be right back” as my almost 3yr old daughter looked on in astonishment she remarks, “They’re pooping in the car?!” Yes, honey, yes they are. I explained the concept of the porta-potty to my daughter but was stumped when she asked the token question that she (and most other 2-3yr olds LOVE to ask) “Why?” Well…

I suppose this really isn’t any of my business, it’s not a big deal, it’s their choice and all those other diplomatic things that people say when they’re trying to imply that they don’t have an opinion on the topic …but… it hits home for me. My own mother, as I mentioned, was a germ-o-phobe, she kept the house immaculate, she scrubbed, she used bleach, she sprayed Lysol into the air (never try this) because it says it’s a disinfectant and she thought it would disinfect the air (it doesn’t) the way it does surfaces (something we still fight about to this day). I remember the smell of it when I would get sick wafting down heavily on me like this blanket of horrible perfume.

Years later, at the age of 25 I got lymphoma, a type of cancer that is apparently common to only children. It’s a mystery cancer so there isn’t one thing that causes it but the theory is that if you’re an only child you’re more likely to get it because you don’t have your germy brothers and sisters sticking their bacteria filled fingers in your mouth. You don’t have a chance to build up that rock solid immune system that siblings unknowingly gift to each other with every loogie they hawk in each other’s face. The bubble my mother wanted to keep me in ultimately could have been my demise were it not for some fantastic doctors and nurses and a huge helping of medical science.

This is my issue with the ‘Germinas’ of the world. I’m not saying live in a pig sty but come on! The rule with us humans is always everything in moderation so a little germs here & there, and teaching your children how to use a public restroom seems reasonable does it not? I mean honestly where do the porta-potty days end? A seven year old is going to leave a formidable ‘deposit’ in the back of Germina’s SUV unless she eventually breaks down and says, “It’s ok honey, go forth and use a seat cover!”