Your Children are Disgusting

I'm a pretty clean person. I take a shower everyday, I wash my hands after I use the restroom, I don't wear underwear more than once before washing it. As such, I don't worry myself excessively about germs. (With my recent spate of illness, I'm more at an Orange Advisory than is normal for me and, when living with children, one must keep more vigilant - i.e. don't let them sneeze in your mouth or eat ANYTHING they hand you.)

My relationship to viruses, germs and bacteria is one of healthy respect. I won't temp fate by eating bacon left out for three days, and the little germ bugs tend to mind their own business. All this seems pretty commonsensical to me and, I'm hoping, to most people.

Children are the obvious exception here because, as we all know, our spawn don't know shit about cleaning themselves. OR about not putting their little pie holes on non-mouth friendly objects.

(While on the EL with R., I witnessed him, to my horror, lick the area just under the window. He was going at it, too, like a friggin' lollipop. I grabbed him by the shoulders and said - in the the calmest way possible for I didn't want to alarm the poor child - "R., I cannot STRESS THIS ENOUGH. Never, and I mean NEVER, LICK ANYTHING ON THE TRAIN.")

All this said, I know there are people out there for whom the very existence of germs and bacteria are an obstacle to a normal life. Everyday they see a landscape swarming with disease.

What does that world look like? The good people at Lysol want to show you:



Aich. Ef. Ess.

I mean....Holy Fucking Shit, dude.

Did you SEE what was GROWING ON THAT KID'S HAND? And look, he's spreading it everywhere with a big fat smile on his face, that evil little twerp. Someone, ANYONE, stop him before...no wait, no WAIT...HE'S GOING FOR THE PACIFIER ON THE BABY'S MOUTH. THAT POOR SINLESS BABY IS GOING TO BE COATED IN HAIRY SHIT WORMS!

SOMEONE STOP HIM. SOMEONE. EFFING. STOP. HIM. WHERE'S THE FUCKING NATIONAL GUARD?!?!? ARE YOU GUYS NOT SEEING THIS?!?

Oh...thank god for Lysol. That's right, Lysol...kill those mother fucking germs....bring a rain of hellfire on those squirmy little effers and show them who is the SHERIFF of this town....I can hear their tiny little screams, like Mozart or something....watch while they wriggle and decay....yeah....YEAH...USA, USA USA!....But, hang on...



AUUUGH! AUUUUUUUUGGGGHHHHHH!

That kid didn't use toilet paper to wipe, I bet...Look. LOOK. At what he left dripping, DRIPPING, I tell you, on the toilet handle...Where's he going...where's he go- OH MY GOD...does he HAVE to touch EVERY FUCKING PEN?!?

That sweet little girl...don't...no, no, no, no, no.....DON'T! DON'T put that PEN, that CRAP COATED PEN, to your mouth....Oh...oh my god....oh, my god...

Oh...Lysol...thank god you're here to spray it all away. Spray the excrement from our human bodies and the filth from our dirty minds.

I need to go drink some bleach to kill the virus I caught just from WATCHING that thing.


There's a need to keep clean. I'm certainly not looking for a spicy case of botulism. But Lysol wants to turn us into a seething mass of mysophobes. For heaven's sake, isn't there enough to terrify us in the world without being told that everything we touch is hosed with fecal spores?