Dear Prudence,
I did not wake up this morning expecting to defend the concept of sanitation to another adult, and yet here we are. My husband apparently believes it is perfectly acceptable—reasonable, even—to use the bathroom toilet plunger in the kitchen sink without washing it first. Not a new plunger. Not a “sink-only” plunger. The plunger. The one whose sole purpose in life is to do battle with human waste.
His argument is that “it’s fine,” “it’s basically clean,” and my personal favorite, “it’s just water.” I would like to note that toilets are also “just water,” and we as a society have made some very clear decisions about what happens in them and where.
When I expressed concern about fecal bacteria—E. coli, salmonella, the invisible horrors we cannot see but absolutely exist—he accused me of being dramatic. Dramatic. As if avoiding cross-contamination is a personality quirk rather than the foundation of modern public health. I tried logic. I tried to explain calmly. I tried saying the words “food safety” out loud like a spell. None of this worked. He maintains that plungers are neutral objects whose past sins are washed away by a quick rinse and vibes.
Prudence, I now find myself spiraling. If the plunger can visit the kitchen sink, what else is negotiable? Is the toilet brush next? Are we rinsing colanders in the bathtub? Will I one day come home to find raw chicken defrosting in the shower because “it all goes to the same pipes”? I am not asking for much. I am asking for a single, firm boundary between where we prepare food and where we confront human excrement. I do not think this is elitist. I do not think this is fussy. I think this is the thin line separating civilization from raccoons.
Am I being unreasonable for insisting that toilet tools remain in the bathroom—or do I need to buy a second plunger, label one “POOP ONLY” in permanent marker, and store it like a radioactive artifact? Please advise before I start bleaching the kitchen sink while making direct, unblinking eye contact with my husband.