Keep It Clean: A Love Story (and a Giveaway)

December 15, 2016 By Kelle

This little love story post is sponsored by simplehuman.

Confession: I thought Brett wasn’t that in to me after our first date–which is, I guess, fine, but surprising considering I sensed so much chemistry. Whatever. There were more fish in the sea. It’s just that it took him two weeks to ask me out again even though we were talking on the phone and laughing at each other’s stories and asking questions about each other’s families. What I didn’t know at the time, though, was that Brett heard a bit of a “productive cough” on our phone conversation after our first date, and that two weeks is what he considered an appropriate amount of time for the cold germs he imagined I had to die off–lest he, GOD FORBID, be exposed to them. That’s right: Brett’s a Class 1 Germaphobe.

“Oh yeah,” my friend who set us up finally informed me, “I forgot to tell you. He’s, like, super freaked out by germs.”

The rest of the story is no secret. We overcame that little hiccup, and he braved another date with Formerly Contaminated, and have been married 10 years now, a union that is astounding given his opposition to germs and my God-made-dirt-and-dirt-don’t-hurt approach to everything. As I’ve revealed, I’m a wolf. Wolves eat Skittles they found on the floor and lick dropped pacifiers before putting them back in babies’ mouths. Wolves are immune to germs. Wolves are so loud and clumsy, germs run at the mere thought of us in their path.

A union of a germaphobe and pacifier-licker does, of course, come with its challenges. Like, say, he governs my comings and goings with repeated “Did you wash your hands?” requests. I, of course–despite the fact that he has trained me to religiously wash my hands after outings–like to taunt him with: “These hands just caressed the handle of a very dirty grocery cart, and if you ask me again if I washed my hands, I will rub them all over you.”

That’s the fun part, of course. His aversion to germs presents many opportunities for teasing, and our entire family has jumped aboard. When Brett hops in on my phone conversations with my sister to tease us about how long we’ve been talking, my sister always snaps back, “Hey Brett, why don’t you go wash your hands.” He laughs, of course, because humor is what fills the personality gaps between Wolf and—hmmm, what’s his animal representation? Paw-Licking Cat? Bacteria-Fighting Sucker Fish?

Here’s the other fun part. I KNOW WHAT TO GET HIM FOR CHRISTMAS. Soap. And not any soap, but soap that comes in a beautiful dispenser that apportions cleansing foam without ever needing to be touched by hands that have patted raw chicken or felt up a grocery cart handle or cleaned the toilet after a little boy misjudged his potty aim.

I don’t need lingerie. This picture, my friends, is a tantalizing display of modern cleanliness and my husband’s dreams come true. I give you simplehuman’s new foam cartridge sensor pump–sleek design and touch-free so no germs or smudges are left behind. That’s hawt.

For real though, he is all about this bass.

And so are the kids. “It’s magic,” Brett told them.

Refilling the pump is easy–just eject the old cartridge and click in a new one–no messy pouring. The pump is rechargeable–one charge lasts up to 3 months. And there’s a wide range of soaps and scents from simplehuman hand and dish soap, to hand soap from other great brands like EO and ARIA by Antica Farmacista.

For the extra clean-conscious, I imagine choosing these scents is a bit like picking out what donuts go in our dozen for the rest of us.

Lookie there. A box of Krispy Kremes.

(By the way, the Peppermint & Tea Tree is amazing.)

This little love story ends well. Because Love Conquers All. Especially if you keep your hands clean.

To make love easier (and cleaner), simplehuman is giving away a foam cartridge sensor pump (and accompanying soaps) to a lucky follower. Check it out.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Don’t think Brett hasn’t warned me numerous times that cold season is upon us. My hands are washed to rawness, folks. Because I try to speak his love language as best as I can. Don’t worry, though. I’m still a wolf.

*Note: This post was typed with clean hands on a sanitized keyboard.

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