Remember that old game show, "Bumper Stumpers" where contestants were given a license plate and had to decipher it? If I had one, it would be GRM FOB. Yep, germ phobe. I've gotten a lot better about it over the past few months (thank you, therapy), so I'm now finding the humor in it.

I remember when it hit me how nuts I really was. It wasn't when I holed myself up in the house for a full week between Christmas and New Year's last year when that god-awful stomach bug was going around or when my girlfriend teased me for sanitizing my newborn's hands. It was when Thing One came up to me with a picture she drew that had a bunch of different colored specks covering an entire 8.5 x 11 sheet of paper. I complimented her on such a pretty, colorful design. "They're germs, mom." she said to me. Oh, god. There. I've done it! I've projected my ridiculous fears onto my child! Don't get me wrong, I love it that she comes up to me and says, "I touched a worm and now I want to eat some chips. Can I have some Purell?", but it's not something I want her obsessing about.

As careful as I am about protecting myself and the kids from all things disgusting, I had the *worst* thing happen this summer that could ever happen to a germ phobe. We were at Lakewood Park for a girls night picnic and we spread out our blankets on the grass. I kicked away every bit of goose poop I could find. Obviously, I didn't get it all, because Thing Two found an escapee turd and popped it RIGHT IN HIS MOUTH! Ugh. I barely slept that night as I waited for him to get violently ill. Thankfully, it didn't happen. The immune system is one amazing thing!

It was an expensive season of therapy, but I'm as good as I'm going to get on the germ front. I had some crappy things happen to me this summer that kind of put it all in perspective.