This Is Why Mrs. HM Will Survive The Apopadopalyspe

Monday evening, Farmer H came in from mowing, burning stuff that came out of the flip house beauty shop, and a trip back to town buying drywall for Tuesday's tasks. He stepped into the kitchen to gather materials for grilling sausage patties on GassyG Jr.

I watched as Farmer H bellied up to the sink, and grabbed my red solo cups that I use every day to drink water for taking my medicine. I use a double cup, and don't see a reason to get a new one each day. It's only water. Yes, I watched in horror as Farmer H PICKED UP MY CUPS WITH HIS FINGERS ON THE RIM and moved them to the side! The rim that my lips touch while I'm drinking the water!

Let the record show that Farmer H is not a stickler for handwashing. He was not going to touch our food with his bare hands. He had the package of sausage patties, and his spatula. So his hands must have been REALLY, REALLY dirty for him to even think about washing them. 

A simple trip to town leaves me wanting to wash my hands. I can't imagine the filth rubbed on my water cup by Farmer H. Who has no issue about washing his hands after stepping out on the porch to pee, or petting the dogs, or working all day with a lawnmower, or ripping out walls at the flip house.

THIS is why Mrs. HM will survive the Apopadopalyspe. A robust immune system, thanks to Farmer H.