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Aug 20 2018, 4:53 PM
Baby in one arm, diaper bag in the other, phone in a pocket ringing somewhere on your body and trying to get out of the house without forgetting the stroller, your wallet or the grocery list - welcome to motherhood!
JUST FOR FUN
I’m a Germophobe and Man Do My Kids Gross Me Out
A dad of delicate sensibilities shares the disgusting things his daughters have done to make him gag. By Zach Roman
Zachery is a married dad of two daughters who lives in Los Angeles. He spends his days writing stories for people to enjoy
The following story was submitted by a Fatherly reader. Opinions expressed in the story do not reflect the opinions of Fatherly as a publication. The fact that we’re printing the story does, however, reflect a belief that it is an interesting and worthwhile read.
I’m a germophobe. To put my phobia into perspective, I have rarely, if ever, shared a cup or utensil with others (including my kids) for fear of some dreadful exposure to some unknown virus that will make me ill or cause me to go into some cationic state. To say the least, I have issues. So having two kids who won’t clean their rooms or wash up before dinner is a problem. Not for them mind you, but for me. It’s no surprise that when I find boogers stuck to the walls of my daughter’s room, I almost gag. Then I remember that I’m a dad, brave and strong, and nothing, not even wet, gooey, tidbits of nose droppings can impact me. But some things are just too weird, sick, and disgusting. And when I see my kids do them, I ponder my sanity and that of my family.
It started off as a nice evening. We had invited some friends over for dinner, wine, and laughter. The table was set beautifully with our nice plates, not to mention wine glasses and a floral centerpiece. It was very elegant, by our standards, and I was convinced that nothing could ruin the night. I was wrong. And when my youngest daughter asked if she could show off her new “pet” to our guests, I didn’t think there was a reason to object. Little did I know, however, her new pet was a cockroach. No sooner did she place it on the table ⏤ while we were still eating, mind you ⏤ it made a beeline for one of our guests, quickly scampering onto her plate and burrowing into the mashed potatoes. Suffice to say, there was much shouting. Chairs were frantically pushed over. Drinks spilled on the floor. This time, I actually did gag.
But … sigh, this is my life. And it only gets grosser. In addition to housing exotic “pets,” my daughters are also extremely creative and enjoy making art from stuff lying around the house. One time, my eldest rummaged through our bathroom for both inspiration and a new medium for her art. And I was lucky enough to get home just in time for the big reveal ⏤ it was a beautiful picture of clouds, rain, people, and rainbows.“Look daddy!” my daughter smiled at me. She had used cotton balls for the clouds, markers to make the rain, Q-tips as the people, and something unique for the rainbows. “What are those, hunny?” I asked. “It’s mom’s stickers,” she replied. Stickers, I thought to myself? Of course, it took a second to make the connection, but I soon realized she had raided my wife’s tampons and colored the white “stickers.” When I asked how she got “stickers” to stick on the paper, she smiled and said, “I licked them, like an envelope daddy!” Yes, my daughter licked maxi-pads, I wanted to barf. But then again, it could have been much worse ⏤ at least they were new. Longer sigh.
Don’t get me wrong. I love my kids, foibles and all. But, for some reason, I didn’t expect the number of nasty things they would do, yet have no clue that it would disgust the average human being or their germaphobic dad. I guess it’s God’s way of building my “ick” sensibilities and converting me into a father who can handle anything of ill-repute, which includes regurgitated turkey meat, sandwiches with mold, and boogers on my X-box controller. Thanks for the nasty memories girls, I love you just the same!