I will be the first person to admit that I have obsessive compulsive disorder to some degree. That’s right folks, I am OCD when it comes to certain things, and a big one of those is what I like to call yuck swapping.
In my quest to expressively explain what yuck swapping is, and to also express my disdain for yuck swapping, let me start out with a simple illustration of what it is. Here is the first on my list:
1) Backwash. A couple days ago, I picked up my red plastic cup of ice water and started glugging. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw another red plastic cup and thought to myself, that’s weird, where did that come from? Then I realized that Noah must have also gotten a red cup out and filled it up with ice water. With eyes half shut from fear of the unknown, I looked down into my cup of water to see and sure enough, I had grabbed Noah’s cup, and there were more than 4,000 little floaties swirling around taunting me just to be cruel. For math’s sake, let’s say I already drank 3/4 of that water, that meant that I drank 12,000 of Noah’s little floaties already! Of course, I instantly started dry-heaving. Backwash is just one form of yuck swap that I can’t handle.
If you can handle reading about that, then read on. Here is the rest of my list, but be warned. You may become a little OCD yourself. Heaven knows I’ve turned many a good person against yuck swapping when they otherwise had no problems with it before:
2) Butt goo. Yes, I said it… Butt goo. Have you ever watched little kids for like six seconds? I have, and I can almost guarantee in any six second period, their little hands will go down their bare butt crack at least nine times. Impressive I know. And then, they scratch. And they don’t just scratch, they go to town. I’ve seen kids of all ages do this (usually when they start “wiping” themselves when going to the bathroom) and then I see them march straight over to the nearest bag of chips or other food and dig in. Once that happens, that food is dead to me. And the relationship can’t be saved.
3) Boogers. I don’t know why little kids like boogers so much. I don’t remember ever eating a booger in my life (seriously, I never did. I just wiped them on the wall by my bed). What’s worse is kids don’t seem to mind having their hands shoved up to China one second and licking frosting off of their fingers the next. Bloody noses are no deterrent either. Kids just like boogers.
4) Pooter ick. Okay, neither me, nor my ex-wife know where Noah got the word pooter, but we like it so we let it stick. Pooter is what Noah calls his… ummm… well, you can guess. And ever since Noah learned to pee like a big boy, he also runs around with his hands down his pants, undoubtedly getting pooter ick all over his usually precious and cute little fingers. Then, of course, straight for the food.
5) Dog disgustingness. I love my dog. But Noah loves him a little more. So much so that he constantly hangs all over him no matter what level of clean the dog is at the moment. I guarantee that Lucky’s disgustingness gets all over Noah. Especially his slobber, which we all know probably has dog poop mixed in (no matter what dog lovers tell you, a dog’s lick is not clean, and it is not the dog kissing you). Then, of course, Noah loves to climb all over dad and play with dad’s hair and face.
And there are more. Lots more. But digest those ones for awhile and see how you feel next time you see a kid touch six cookies, put them back one at a time, and finally decide on the perfect one. Seriously. Am I the only one on earth who sees the constant yuck swap going on? I hope not. Adults of the world, please let’s unite and never let the kids dish up until we have made our rounds at the potluck.
Dan Pearce, Single Dad Laughing