I did not realize how serious my aversion to being dirty was until having a child of my own.
This realization occurred as my baby girl crawled all over our backyard, getting grass, cotton (the cottonwood in front is going crazy) and dirt stuck to her since she had been in the pool, then came over to climb onto me.
I let this occur, of course, because her happiness and enjoyment of the great outdoors has so far surpassed my obsessive need to be clean, but that certainly doesn't mean it didn't wig me out a little!
My particularly favorite must-be-clean obsession is feet. I loathe having dirty feet. I try not to let this little piece of dysfunction set me back too much because I love sandals, but once my feet are dirty, it does not take long for me to find the nearest hose, sink or bathtub to remedy the situation.
Luckily today M's wader pool is filled (five days straight of 100+ temperatures) and since it's full of cotton anyway I have no qualms about rinsing dirt and grass off of me. As long as the cotton doesn't stick to me, at which point I retreat indoors to the shower.
I know many days of dirtiness are ahead of me, so it will be interesting to see how well I can cope. Will my OCD be reduced to a shadow of its former self or will I merely have super dry skin from obsessive washing? We shall see.
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