The little boy that could

Have you ever known a child to enjoy washing his or her hands too much? I’m not a regular on the parenting circuit so I can’t claim to be an expert; but I can tell you it’s a 50/50 proposition in our modest household. Our daughter exhibits many of the signs of phobia. She has little time for cleaning, and little use for clean hands. I didn’t think much of this… I always thought this was the norm.

Then we had a little boy.

Adam is a walking contradiction. Compared to Beth’s hands, Adam’s look like a superfund site. We have the EPA on speed dial so they can check the bath water… to make sure it’s safe to release into the sewer system. His penchance for soiling not withstanding, he’s a consummate hand washer. Now that he’s learned the intricacies of the standard bearer of personal privacy – the door knob – he’s become quite familiar with a knob of another kind: the one adjacent to the faucet in the bathroom.

A few weeks ago my wife had a brilliant idea.

“John, could you get a couple of foot stools at Target the next time you’re there?”


“I want Adam to start washing his own hands.”

Measured solely by comparing pre- and post- stool handwashing frequency – it’s been a smashing success.

It’s also got me thinking… how hard would it be to install a drain in the middle of our bathroom floor?

Give the gift of words.