I know that I am ‘prissy.’  They say admitting your shortcoming is the first step to overcoming it, but it’s too late. I don’t know how to be any other way. Checking the synonyms listed in the unabridged, you could also call me ‘easily shocked or offended’ and ‘oversensitive.’  Things bother me— things that many people ignore.

For example, I don’t want my silverware to touch the bare table in a restaurant—even if it appears to have been wiped clean.

If it’s wrapped in a napkin, I keep it there until my plate arrives and I can place them on it. Only then will I move my napkin to my lap.

On road trips, highway rest stops are tough. I can’t eat if the booth is dirty—and they usually are. I show a total disregard for Mother Earth in these situations and use multiple napkins to wipe the table and chairs and take more napkins to use as placemats. I can’t eat if the people near me look dirty or are talking to their children in an unkind way. Total distraction. I have to pick a spot as far from the strangers as possible and not risk getting queasy if I see adults licking their fingers or hear someone talking about their trip to the vet and describing all that was done to Kitty.

This brings me to the other problem for us squeamish types—the public restroom. Certainly, that is a misnomer, as there is no resting while I try not to touch or be touched by anything-- an ordeal. The worst bathrooms in this country must be along Interstates 80 and 90 through the state of Indiana. Generally a small portion of the facilities is in working order. I feel guilty occupying a handicapped stall, but if no one is around, I will. At least there’s a chance of not bumping the walls. Of course, I must use plenty of toilet tissue to protect myself from contact with the seat. The self-flushing toilet has advantages but, then again if the electric eye calls time when I am still carefully placing the paper, all bets are off and the process starts over.

Do I need to add that I never use Port-o-Johns?

Lilly Kauffman is a non-fiction writer who was privileged to work as both librarian and a teacher. Her essays, whether serious or humorous, capture the experiences that allow us to laugh and grieve. Family and faith inform her writings. She is currently working on several book projects: A Mother Grieves in Ink, Ampersand, and Lil Letters.