Pickles

Well its been a while since my last posting and being short on time I thought I would share a short experience that may help many of you in the future, it has helped me so much in my life, in fact I had to wipe a tear from my eye just from thinking about it, yeah its that special!


This story shall be entitled:

PICKLES

Well as many of you may know I have many peculiarities, or "hangups" as some may say, regarding.....well everything, but especially food, or the handling thereof. In other words I don't particularly like my food being touched.

About three years ago on a hot, hot September day we went to Nephi to help Korey, and Emily move into there awesome new house. The Wrights had previously been living in a totally ghetto rental house in town.

Okay the pic. may be a bit of an exaggeration, but you get the idea.

Anyway behind the house there were some small sheds that Korey was using for storage, there were also some metal shelves that had to be disassembled and hauled to the new house. Cole and I took apart the shelves and packed up much of what was in the shed.
Well as is the case with most sheds there had been mice living there, and where there are mice there are also lots of mouse droppings. Along with general old shed grime these droppings were everywhere, and on everything and It was impossible to avoid contaminating your hands.

After filling the truck we went In the house to wait for others to return with more trucks. While in the house Cole started rummaging through the fridge looking for a snack, it was slim pickins, old ketchup bottles, half full mayo jars, soy sauce, some old leftovers and a large jar, half full of pickles, and mostly full of juice.

Being the most desirable choice to be had, Cole decided that he would indulge in a pickle. Now I AM quite certain that we had not yet packed up the silverware, but that didn't matter Cole already had a perfectly suitable utensil. This tool had four fingers, one opposable thumb, and was attached to his wrist. It is the same dirty tool he used to clean out the mouse infested shed. Then he did it, he stuck his whole hand in the pickle jar, wiggled his fingers around to find that perfect pickle, and removed his snack. I must also say that he did not wash his hands first, unless you consider his hand being submerged in pickle juice as an adequate washing.

After finishing his pickle he replaced the lid to the jar, put it in the box with the other condiments, and off it went to the new house, and in the new fridge, where to the best of my knowledge, it remained until all pickles were consumed.

I hope this story may, in some way be helpful to whoever reads this blog (all two of you). You may conclude that one should be very cautious when eating pickles out of a jar, or that you should buy pickle jars with small openings so that a hand may not fit in, or that you should write "no fingers use a fork" on the lid. (that's what I do)

Perhaps you will conclude that its safe to eat pickles anywhere, because if Cole can stick his mouse turd hands in the jar without getting anyone sick than pickle juice can kill anything!