You know you’re a germ-o-phobe when you do this:

Yes, Little Girl has managed to score her own private tub of peanut butter, the world’s best banana topping. We are currently battling cold germs (Little Boy is on his 3rd cold of the season.) and Little Girl is the second one to succumb to the bug. This is not surprising since she finds Little Boy, her currently-snotty-sneezy-slobbery brother, irresistible. The kisses and hugs and caresses of his face seem to intensify when he’s sick. Perhaps she has a future in nursing.

Anyway, this morning, Little Girl was painting her breakfast banana with peanut butter when I peered around the cereal box just in time to catch her lick the knife and then plunge it back into the peanut butter jar. (Is it bad that I was more worried about the peanut butter than the fact that she licked the knife?)

I admit it. I kinda flipped out. Since I had been sheltered by the cereal box, I had no idea how many times this sequence had already been repeated. I hate being sick, and I hate it when my family is sick. Sickness means we can’t go anywhere and especially in the winter, that gets everyone down really fast.

I took immediate action. I quarantined that jar, labeled it as hers, and got the rest of us one of our own. Thankfully Kroger had a super-duper sale on those tiny jars and I bought about ten awhile back. The small jar 2/3 gone made it a whole lot easier for me to just sign it over to Little Girl and grab another one. If it had been a 64-oz Jif, I probably would have scraped out what I guessed to be the contaminated peanut butter, prayed over the remainder, and put it back into general use.