My mom is a lovely woman… just delightful. But when it comes to parenting, we don’t always see eye to eye. It is more like I am seeing into her closed eyes, or maybe a winking eye?
Now I don’t really see myself as an uptight mom, but I may have developed an excessive fear of germs. Considering I grew up in Boston and lived in New York City for 13 years you would think that I would be pretty comfortable with microbes… and I used to be. I would walk my dog all over the puke-infested streets of the East Village and then let her sleep in my bed no problem. I had come to terms with breathing in the skin cells of my fellow citizens on the train, and never showered more than twice a week allowing the filth of the city to burrow deep into my pores. But since I have been living isolated in the woods I have not only become slightly agoraphobic, but also unreasonably grossed out by communal spaces. Every time I go out in public I have to scrub myself raw before I get into my pristine bed that has only ever been dusted by the dandruff of wood nymphs.
So this weekend I went out to dinner with my family in Boston for my brother’s birthday. It was snowing out, and I decided I would get the car to pick up The Munch so she wouldn’t get all wet. I had this grand plan to get her in her pajamas before we left so if she fell asleep on the drive, I wouldn’t have to change her later.
Toni: “Okay so I am going go get the car…”
Mom: “Do you want me to put her pajamas on for you?”
Toni: “Well…. I was thinking I would just do it over their in the corner of the restaurant when I get back.”
Mom: “Don’t be silly. Give me her pajamas and I will take her down stairs to the bathroom. There is a changing table down there and she can go pee before you get in the car.”
Now I agreed to this plan, but only because it was my brother’s birthday and I didn’t want to make a scene. Yet as I was walking to the car I started to have paranoid fantasies that were making me break out in hives. All I could think about was how revolting a restaurant’s changing table is. I started to envision the poo particles and pee atoms coating the place where I knew my mom would be placing my child’s naked back. And then came the intense fear that my Mom let The Munch sit on the toilet seat to pee and didn’t create a crown of toilet paper to shield her thighs from having direct contact with fecal microorganisms. When I finally got back to collect my child I had worked myself into a frenzy.
Toni: “Hey Mom, did you actually put her down on top of the changing table?”
Mom: “Of course I did Toni.”
Toni: “And did she go pee?
Mom: “Yes she did.”
Toni: “And did you line the seat with toilet paper to protect her pristine skin?”
Mom: “Are you out of your mind? Why would I do such a thing?”
Toni: “But Mom, public bathrooms are gross and the toilets are covered in pee!”
Mom: “Toni don’t be ridiculous. And besides, urine is sterile.”
Toni: “Mom!!!”
Mom: “Toni you need to relax! And speaking of needing to relax, when you come back on the 9th I am taking her to the Children’s Museum in a taxi I don’t care what you say.”
Toni: “But Mom, there are no car-seats in Taxi’s!?”
Mom: “Toni you and your brother used to ride in the back of a pick up truck on the highway. You really need to take a chill pill.”
Sigh. At least now I know where my life long fear of pick up trucks and this persistent rash on my ass came from.
(Moments before The Munch was defiled…)
