All things ICKY

We've all seen her. The mom who picks up the dropped binky, sticks it in her mouth to clean it off, and then promptly plops it back into her baby's mouth. Disgusting.

Let's call this woman, for lack of a better description (and of course, NO offense intended whatsoever): "Gross Mom".

Gross Mom does things like use their finger to wipe the icing remnants from their little ones mouth and then puts said finger in their own mouth to lick it clean. CRINGE.

Gross Mom does things like give their baby a drink of their water through a straw, watches tons of backwash and food particles float to the bottom of their cup, and then takes a big swig themselves. PUKE.

Gross Mom does things like pick at crusty knee scabs or yank boogers out of their kids snotty noses with their bare hands. DRY HEAVE.

Gross Mom also does things like give their child a bite of their food from a spoon and then proceeds to eat off whatever remnants the child left behind. GAG.

Ughhh...I can't handle it. Any of it.

Perhaps I am the exception to the rule but I just can't share my drink, among many other expected child-parent related things. My husband gives me a hard time about this and jokes that I am strange for not wanting to share germs with my own flesh and blood. I don't deny it, I even thank him for finally understanding me. "It's not that I don't want to share", I say to him sheepishly as he watches me order a drink for myself and a separate one for the kids. "I just can't."

Oh I'm sure in the official Motherhood Handbook somewhere there is a whole section on "sharing" and just below the definition is the antonym... followed by a picture of my face. Don't get me wrong, I actually do very well with sharing all sorts of other things. It's just usually the above that gets me queasy. Well, that and dirty diapers, my son peeing on the toilet seat for the 30th time and picking up soggy soup noodles from the floor. Blech.

Anyway, there isn't any moral to the story here or some groundbreaking point I'm trying to make. In fact, I'm positive that 99% of you reading this will be thinking halfway through "What is wrong with that girl?". To that, I say, I don't know. Maybe it all stems from my days working as an aide in the nursing home, giving sweet old ladies manicures. You've never seen dirtier nails on a person in your life... and they don't even go outside that often! It took me about two weeks to realize that my dread for going there each day had nothing to do with work and everything to do with dirty, disgusting, nasty finger nails. I held my breath and choked back vomit long enough to finish one adorable little old woman's mani and then I split like a bat out of hell. I never went back. All the money in the world couldn't have kept me there. Oh the horrid memories...

My fellow Mothers, I commend you for your willingness to get down and dirty with the backwash and the poopy diapers. I am completely envious of your ability to give your toddler a bite of your ice cream cone. Who knows... maybe one day I'll come around. Until then, it's separate spoons for me.