- 5 years ago
- Wedding: June 2012
The other day, I earned the ire of many Bees by loudly proclaiming that I would never, never, unless it was an emergency but even then ehhhhh probably NEVER, put my baby directly into the kitchen sink for a bath. Yes, I know people have been bathing babies in the kitchen sink for generations. Yes, I know YOU were bathed in the kitchen sink and you turned out fine, and you bathed your kids in the kitchen sink and they turned out fine … but I won’t do it. I can’t do it.
Because the kitchen sink is, like, the nastiest grossest most horrible thing I can even think of. Because I am insane.
I picture the kitchen sink as basically being a big ol’ sloppy wet garbage can. I don’t mean to brag, but we have a pretty powerful garbage disposal in there — if the pieces were cut up small enough, I’m sure I could grind up a dead body in minutes. And so I throw everything in there — fruit cores, chicken skins, containers full of too-old-to-eat leftovers, you name it. And even though I always use the spray hose thing to chase all the fragments down the drain, and even though I spray it daily with cleaner, it is still basically a toxic slop bucket full of invisible scraps of garbage-disposal-pureed beef stew and raw chicken guts. Just because you can’t see it and it’s been bleached and is probably completely clean, doesn’t mean it’s completely clean. If any part of my hand inadvertently touches the bare metal of the kitchen sink, that hand must immediately be washed with soap. Every time.
The only sure way to clean the kitchen sink is to put on the rubber gloves, grab the special sponge designated ONLY for sink cleaning, Comet the crap out of it (and leave the Comet to disinfect on there for the full ten minutes), then wash off all the comet and dry the entire inside of the sink with paper towels. The sink is then clean until such time as it becomes wet again. (once it gets wet, the water will obviously reactivate all the invisible chicken guts that were lurking on the metal, and how do you know the pureed beef stew isn’t going to crawl up out of the garbage disposal and cling to the sides of the sink again? You couldn’t possibly know that for sure.)
So no, even though kitchen sinks are perfectly normal places for people to give their babies baths, NOT FOR ME.
I am also moderately insane about giving myself baths. You see, I am the only person that uses my shower. Darling Husband showers in the other bathroom. I spray the shower and tub with Tilex frequently and wipe down the edges with Lysol wipes on the regular. But if you expect me to take a bath in my own bathtub, better bust out the rubber gloves and Comet again because BARF. I can’t do it. It’s gross. Somehow. What if there’s a stray hair stuck to the side and it gets in the water and oh god I’m going to be sick.
And this last one, I’m not even going to say anything about — I’m just going to type a sentence and then hit “submit” because I can’t even think about it it’s so nasty. Here it goes:
Taking a bath at a hotel.
What totally normal things — that other people have no problem with — could you never ever in a million years maybe even if it were life or death bring yourself to do?