Ann was a little under the weather this week with a stomach bug. Always the caring and sensitive husband, when I got home from work I handed her the Clorox Clean-Up and asked her to wipe down the doorknobs, handles, and any other objects she may have touched. Did you get the remote? She waved a finger at me, and it wasn’t her index finger. Alrighty then.

Look, let’s get this straight: I’m not a germaphobe. If I were a germaphobe, would I allow the the dog eat pasta out of my mouth —and we’re not talking “Lady and The Tramp” style, we’re talking penne. Exactly. And if I were a germaphobe, would I consume perfectly good food that someone carelessly left in the kitchen garbage, or reach elbow deep into the sewer pipe in the basement? I rest my case. This isn’t about germs, this is a public health issue, and if you ask me that’s everyone’s responsibility.

You didn’t touch the refrigerator did you? She gave me that cute little wave again.

Over the Top

Proper toilet paper installation.

I’m not sure washing my hands thirty-six times a day makes me obsessive compulsive. Nor do I think there’s anything wrong with organizing the items on the supermarket conveyor belt as seen in the attached diagram that I bring shopping on a laminated card. But Ann says the toilet paper thing is weird. I can’t abide the TP hanging wall side down, because it doesn’t look right —and after all, do you really want your toilet paper touching the wall? This is no trouble at home, where the family has been trained in proper toilet paper deployment, but sometimes you’ll go into other people’s homes and find that they have carelessly displayed the paper in the underhand position. If you see this, do what I do: just go ahead and change it. If you don’t believe I’d do that, invite me over. And while there, I’d be happy to show you the correct way to load your dishwasher.