Monday, June 7, 2010

Sponge Hands

Luke calls me a "borderline germaphobe." According to, a phobia is "a persistent, irrational fear of a specific object, activity, or situation that leads to a compelling desire to avoid it."

I don't know where my sudden love of cleanliness came from. (For the purposes of this blog, please note that there is a clear distinction between cleanliness and clutter.) Maybe it stems from the microbiology class I took last year. Or the fact that now the appearance on our apartment is a reflection on me. But since we've moved in, I religiously scrub every bleachable surface every Saturday. And I use Clorox wipes during the week in between. I find these behaviors to be totally reasonable. I am not afraid of germs...I just don't want them in my kitchen. Very rational, you see?

The only thing that makes me put any weight in Luke's accusations is my feeling on sponges. I hate sponges! They are just a germ reproduction center! And they stink! Despite my best efforts to run them through the dishwasher, I can smell them from a mile away. If one of us uses the sponge, I smell it on our hands and refer to this condition as "Sponge Hands."

Last week was the first time that my fear of getting Sponge Hands prevented me from doing the dishes. Very ridiculous, I know. Perhaps I'm not a germaphobe, rather a Spongaphobe. I don't know, you decide.


  1. I prefer to think positively about people. I'm uncertain of your sponge proclivities - but I know you are a great cook. So I prefer to call you "The Great Chicken Sandwich Maker."

  2. I totally get it. There are no sponges in my house because I live with a Spongaphobe too. Forget doing the dishes, break 'em all and go with paper.

  3. I'm always washing the dishes with the sponge and she calls me sponge hands. I didn't know it but she is right there is a distinct smell on your hands after handling a sponge. Oh well I might be sponge hands but at least I'm not a borderline Germaphobe.