There is nothing I dislike more than public restrooms. They are germ harbouring stations that keep illnesses spreading like wildfire. I have three Wee Ladies with small bladders. Having to take them into a public washroom always gives me the hee-bee-gee-bees.
I can be a bit of a germ freak. I hate constant sickness. And with three kids, I do everything in my power to avoid illness. Not only because it means discomfort for the Wee Ladies, but more because it makes my life a living hell for a few days. I like to be on my best game, you know.
A trip to the public washroom consists of several dozen, "Don't touch anything!" And "Don't touch that! Ah, ah, ah, ah, no!" I lead them into the stall. I look in all unoccupied cubicles before selecting the cleanest one. I practically put the Wee Ladies in between my legs to guarantee they don't put their hands anywhere gross. I slather the seat with thousands of layers of toilet paper, covering every inch of the seat. I don't trust toilet seat covers. They never work. They are too loose; too unpredictable. I pick up the child, place her on the seat, and place her hands in her lap so her fingers don't go over the edge of the seat and touch the bowl. They do their business. I then pick them up to put them back together again. I flush the toilet. With my foot. I barely touch the latch to open and lock the stall door. I usually use my shirt. If it is a short-sleeved shirt I use the bottom of my t-shirt.
We get to the sinks and wash our hands. I cringe if they are not sensored. That means I have to touch the taps. I use my elbow to get the soap and then I lather us all up and rinse. We drip dry and then I use my shirt again to leave the bathroom. I always sigh with relief when I leave a public bathroom.
So what if the taps are manual, you ask? And you have to turn the taps off after washing your hands already? Easy. I use my Bath and Body Works hand sanitizer when I get to the car.
What happens if the bathroom is out of soap?
That's when I bring out the anti-bacterial wipes that I have stashed in the centre console of the van. Or the ones under the passenger seat. You can usually find some in the day bag too.
The worst is when you ask the Wee Ladies if they have to go to the bathroom and only one says yes. And then after going through the whole rig-a-ma-roll, the other says, "I have to go tinkles, Mom!" Ugh. No wonder my hands look and feel like sand paper. Because I all ever do is wash them.
Some of you might call me anal. Some might accuse me of being partially responsible for perpetuating all these super bugs because I am overly concerned with germs sometimes. Well, you know what? So what? I need to function. I can't afford to have three Wee Ladies barfing all night long because I slacked off in the bathroom routine at the Tim Horton's. So if I go overboard in avoiding the germs that thrive in the public loo, well then so be it.
All's I'm sayin's all.
Labels: Battle
