Where's my sanitizer?

Some may say I’m a germaphobe, but actually, I just don’t like mud

A number of years ago we lived in Australia and went on oodles of adventurous missions with our kids.  One such escapade found me waist deep in mud.  Not a good thing for someone who does not like muck.  This mire was not the nice kind like used in soothing facials or cleansing mud baths.  A big Scotty no!  It was bug-infested, algae-laden, brackish, wet decay-type of sludge-mud.

germ.a.phobe:  Any person who is obsessed with cleanliness and defeating bacteria. These individuals will turn on faucets with their elbows and hand sanitize on an hourly basis.  - Urban Dictionary

Yanchep was the day’s destination.  There were kangaroos, koalas, caves, hiking trails and plenty of sites for having a picnic.  We decided to join one of the guided bushwalks.  The instructions included wearing clothes and shoes that you didn’t mind getting wet.  The tour of this bush area would involve some dampness on the trail.  No problem; I can handle a muddy trail.  We signed up and set off on the bush, uh, swamp exploration.

It started out all well and dandy.  Walking along, listening to our guide; learning of the local flora and a few fauna species – mostly birds and lizards – hearing the squawking kookaburras laugh.  Our intrepid scout trekked on, giving the advice to watch our steps as we were about to cross a creek. 

You call that a creek?  It appeared more like a slurry of bog dung!

Cautiously maneuvering the uneven bottom, I soon found the only hole in the stream bed, plunging into the brackish, wet decay described so endearingly above.  Everyone else?  Only ankle or shin deep … all while hearing the belly-laughs of my loving family.  Throw the nano-second rule out the window!  This quagmire is what they named the Black Lagoon after.

In our travel through the years, we will encounter pond scum, truly and in essence.  Daily grime clings to us, staining our clothing and leaving hidden deposits of enough germs to make the most immune, unaware cringe.   

How do you deal with the grunge?  Are you a brush-it-off and it will be okay type of person?  Or, do you grab the closest bottle of bleach and start scouring everything in sight?  A little dirt don’t hurt, but don’t go licking the catsup bottle at a restaurant.

Did I mention that I don’t like mud?

Missy

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