You Know What You Touched

This.

soap

I’m so very pleased with my purchase from last night.  I was a bit horrified when I saw them; “It would be funny if it weren’t true!”

While I understand that the autistic teenagers that hang out at our residence might need some nudging and reminding (like, constantly!), I would hope that would be where this would end.

Evidently not. Or WHY ELSE would the nice lady at the holiday boutique last night make – and sell – said soap dispensers? (To other nice ladies, like myself??)

And then I got to thinking. (Because what else better defines “Random Musings of a Classic Overthinker” than this?)  But, why, in the name of all that is Holy, do I ever have to see a woman leave a public bathroom without washing her hands? WHY?  Did her mother never teach her? Was she never shamed into washing, even begrudgingly? Does she not like soap? Does she have a secret plan to contaminate the entire population and move on to other world domination plots? I just do not understand.

It seems to me that I am falling into a “judging” zone, which I believe I just wrote about last week.

Is this different? Can I judge on this particular transgression? Or no, am I actually bound to my own musings? Dammit.

I know that I have totally judged on this in the past, when I saw a woman walk right out of her stall and into the public, only to realize that she was in a stall that housed its own sink. I had to apologize to her in my own mind, and of course gave her the benefit of the doubt. Because, really, she would have washed. Right??  And to be fair, it’s rare. I don’t see it often, but when I do. I’M SHOCKED! What…? How…? Whyyyyy?!?!

Now, men, I obviously have no idea if you are washing or not. (Except for those of you with whom I cohabitate – yes, I know, I am all over you like white on rice…)  But for the rest of you, I don’t make a practice of hanging out in men’s restrooms – and you’re welcome – but for the love of donuts, PLEASE don’t make me wonder. Just wash the F-ing hands.

Don’t be gross.  You know what you touched.
You Heard the Lady,

XX

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