“Germs lurking on our refrigerator door handle are still frisky as fawns. I feel them.”

Germs and viruses lurk everywhere. Most wash hands before eating, but what about the hundreds of places one touches before washing? Light switches, kitchen cabinet knobs, faucets. Don’t even think about the toilet handle. Gross. I told you not to think about it. Is this how Howard Hughes started his descent into Kleenex box sneakers?

Years ago, an Atlanta news personality conducting a survey on antibacterial soaps asked if I used the product. “No,” I scoffed, “That’s the problem! We created super antibiotic-resistant germs because of this “Boy in the Bubble” groupie mentality. We’ve mutated our hardy Irish, African, Mediterranean survival-of-the-fittest genetics into inbred Hapsburg monarchs of the 1600s mush.”

Flash forward a few years. In my car I keep a liter-sized pump of Germ-x which I immediately use upon entering vehicle. Then I grab a wipe from oil drum-sized dispenser to towel off every door handle, radio knob and steering wheel.

What changed? CHILDREN. I never want my children to needlessly suffer. That said, there is a well-hidden, teensy demonic part of me that panics at the whiff of a two week lock-down because my children are playing catch with a nasty cold or (I shouldn’t risk typing this)…the flu.

How do you eradicate viruses that stick around longer than the quashed armadillo in front of my house? That carcass lasted a full two weeks. No, I just checked and after a month I still see an oil-slick outline and rattle tail. Germs lurking on our refrigerator door handle are older than that decaying armored spot and still frisky as fawns. I feel them. Well, maybe it’s just crusty icing remains from son’s birthday cake, but if I could feel germs on a refrigerator door handle, I bet that is what they feel like.

And this keyboard. No telling where my fingers have been today. The shopping cart at Ingles, my husband (a little after noon), then that uncontrollable urge to lick the mat out in front of the Post Office. UGH. Okay, I didn’t really lick the mat, but I might as well have for what stealth, invisible army of sickness marched in my mouth or up my nose.

Researchers speculate that Howard Hughes’ tumble into germophobia came from his mother. Sure, shovel truckloads of guilt on another well-meaning mom. So terrified that young Howard would contract polio (or maybe that she might miss her weekly hand at Bridge), Hughes’ mother tirelessly monitored all his food and checked him daily for disease. We need to encourage children to wash hands but let’s skip daily worry over throat cultures. Realizing when bodies fend off an infection, it is a good thing. Often, it’s just very bad timing.

I vow to resist urges to cover my children in disinfectant. Instead turning to prayer that important events like birthdays, intercession and this week’s “Game of the Century” in college football be spared illness. And please dear Lord in all your wisdom and mercy, never let a virus come between me and my standing pedicure on the second Tuesday of every month. Amen.

Okay— I added this video for fun. I learned something today. I thought Loggins & Messina sang this song, but no…(that was Your Mama don’t Dance and Your Daddy
Don’t Rock and Roll.)

And for you Madison folks. I spotted Ken Kuperberg — right after the picture of George Harrison. If you look real quick and picture him standing at the head of the carpool line waving you to turn right into drop off point instead of talking music with some guy in the picture. It’s Ken…

Have a great Thursday.