This beautiful afternoon, while it was about 65F and sunny, while one child was zooming around the yard on his Strider and the other was literally wallowing in the mud that constitutes our sandbox, I did a Minesweep of the back yard and cleared out all the dog-doody the last snow had concealed.
And it got me to thinking that a quite large proportion of my waking hours are dedicated to literally “dealing with shit.” Two cats, one dog, one toddler, and a pre-schooler whose toileting habits can be best described as erratic. I am almost never not touching poop.
Which is why the skin is actually peeling off my hands. I wash my hands about 74 times a day. I can’t keep ahead on the lotion game, and have given up. Total lizard hide. Cracking hangnails. Split knuckles.
Still – I am probably sanitary…as best as is possible, at any rate.