I’m in a public bathroom with Vivien. It’s sort of nasty and I keep hissing at her, “Don’t touch anything!” Like, she’s a finger away from the plague instead of the same gross old germs we always come into contact with. But somehow it seems worse in a public bathroom and one that does not appear to be well maintained. Also I feel so vulnerable, hovering over the can while I also try to corral my child who could touch any object if given the chance. And then this happens.
There is no catch to the cheap one ply roll. I keep trying to find the end and my quads get a workout. Finally I claw at it like a nervous kitty. “Get me out of here!” I get a snippet of tissue, wash our hands and then command Vivien like the commender of sub. “Dive, dive, get out of here!”
We used a unisex bathroom today after a MAN had been in there. Let’s just say he marked his territory. I’ve got two little ones who are trotting through the mess and me so desperate to pee I didn’t know what to do. Next bathroom was an hour away. My kingdom for a can of Lysol! Major heebie jeebies and big case of the icks as I doused us with hand sanitizer and was once again so thankful we have a no shoes in the house rule! Cuz we walked out of there with plenty of DNA on the bottom of our shoes. GROSS!!