My husband, like a lot of gluticrats that are married to celitariats, doesn’t always eat gluten free. We were out to dinner at Chipotle (I love these people because they have amazing allergy protocols) and he excused himself to go to the restroom while I was still noshing on my burrito bowl. He comes out of the bathroom with a really amused/pleased look on his face.
Oh get your mind out of the gutter. It’s public restroom!
No, this is the face that he has when he’s come up with a great (and amusing) world observation. He does this often. I honestly married a philosopher comic. But he gives me his little boy grin, like he does before he’s about to tell me a joke, and says, “I got really smart and washed my hands before I used to urinal.”
Yup. That’s the kind of thing that you share in public.
His reasoning was pretty sound. Just in case our marriage when to that adult marriage place, he wanted to make certain that ALL of him would be safe for his wife.
Yup, he went there too.
Okay, lets this about this logically for a moment. He had eaten his ginormous Chipotle burrito with his hands. So there was gluten all over those hands. The same gluten that we make the servers behind the counter wash their hands and change their gloves before they made out food. Why would he touch parts that might be touched by me later without taking the same precautions? It makes so much sense. And how can’t I be happy that he thought of it, since he was so proud of himself.
We had the opposite of this happen last week. Last Monday I was on day 2 of a glutening. For me, day 2 is the foggy brain, body aches, and the least functioning I could possibly be. I am totally useless. Actually I’m kind of proud that I got something out that was coherent-ish for the blog last Monday. So, did I eat anything with gluten in it? Of course not. I try and be really careful. Did my husband? You better believe it. And what did I do? Well I kissed him, because we’re one of those sickening couples that do that. After I done with a little peck of the lips he looks at me with horror and said, “I just had a granola bar.”
Bippity-boppity-boo and I’m sick!
Well a couple of hours later I was sick. And then sick for the next couple of days.
So, washing hand before going to the bathroom with hopes that you might get lucky…well it’s not that out of the question. It’s not even an unrealistic expectation. Not everyone is THAT sensitive, but honestly, I think that it’s one of those better safe than sorry kind of things, because you never know, it sucks to be sick. And when you have someone who really thinks about your needs (along with their own) well, you should keep them around because it’s awesome.