So I was extremely nauseous the other night. It wouldn’t go away. When most people feel like yakking, they spend a lot of time kneeling in front of the porcelain god and laying on the bathroom floor. Been there many times myself. The cool porcelain against one’s forehead can be quite refreshing (and in retrospect quite disgusting).
However, I’ve had an serious uncorrected knee injury for several months that prevents me from squatting or kneeling. I decided to lay on the couch with a bucket next to me so that wouldn’t hurl a Picasso onto the carpet. Only we got rid of the bucket when we moved. I looked for a large vessel and came up with the large steel cookpot. Its quite large (bigger than the bucket). You can cook a whole large chicken in it.
The next morning when explaining why I slept on the couch, my mother-in-law and wife heard what I had selected for an emergency vomit bucket, and they were HORRIFIED. Even though I never spewed into this pot, my MIL insisted that we throw it out. Just the thought of me ralphing into this pot (even though it never happened) was enough to make her never want to use the pot again. My wife shared her feelings. She couldn’t* believe * that I would even consider vommitting into a cooking vessel.
Am I missing something? It’s a STEEL pot. It’s washable. Our dish-washer even has a “sanitize” setting that steams things so hot that you better let it finish the cool down cycle before you consider touching anything in it. Doctors use the same steel instruments in surgeries on many different people. Some of them even have communicable diseases. But they sterilize them. Steel is great like that. You wash it thoroughly and its good as new. They didn’t see it that way.
No amount of washing or sterilizing would have prevented them from throwing out that pot had I actually tossed any of my horrid cookies in it.
I don’t see what the big deal is. Am I really such a disguting, horrible human being?
Here’s a quick thought question. If, hypothetically speaking, you stuck a ladle up your butt, would you still use that ladle, even if it was sterilized? The answer may help you understand this situation.
Nah. I’ve used cooking pots, and actually reused them after vomiting in them. We had this big steel bowl when I was kid, affectionately called the “Barf Bowl.” It might still be kicking around at one of my parent’s houses.
It would be perfectly fine after a hot washing, your MIL is being histrionic. Phantom vomit washes out easily.
Of course you should never let them know that you pee in the shower.
But not really the same. I mean they use the same silverware as me for chrissake. That fork my MIL ate with tonight was the same one I had in my mouth last night. And she and my wife both know where my mouth has been!
The subject of peeing in the shower came up from a third party and my wife let her views be known. I’ll just keep that to myself. I have too many irrational reactions from her to deal with already.
I once had a girlfriend who was squicked out by the fact that I brushed my teeth in the shower. When that relationship ended, I was overcome with an urge to compose an email saying “You know what? I PEED IN THE SHOWER THE WHOLE TIME WE WERE TOGETHER! AND IN THE SINK!”
No, I didn’t send it. I think it would have killed her.
As for the situation in the OP, though, fair is fair - I think you should actually imagine a ladle that you just happened to misplace up your mother-in-law’s butt. And *then * up your wife’s butt. Would you still use that?
I probably would. Well, maybe not if it had been up *your *wife and *your *mother-in-law’s posteriors, since I don’t know *them *personally, but… oh, you get the idea.
Your wife and MIL way way way overreacted. Especially since you never actually puked into the pot. They want to throw something away because of an idea you had. You should tell them you almost wiped your ass with the living room drapes and then suggest they throw them away.
Your MIL is completely overreacting. Why do you have to toss it at all. If your wife is so horrified at the idea of using the pot to cook in again, just keep it as a “sick pot”.
Ditto - except replace “steel bowl” with “dutch oven” type of pot. I do not currently have a “sick pot”. I have just have gotten really good at getting to the bathroom.
When I was a kid, we had the “vomit bowl,” a nice, large green salad bowl that made a particularly easy target next to the bed. My mom still uses it to serve salad. (Don’t worry, she has washed it many times since I last vomited in it.)
Your in-laws must have some pretty serious hang-ups if they can’t stomach ( ) the thought of a vomit bowl in the house.
Even if you HAD ralphed in it…c’mon. It’s not like the contents of your stomach are some sort of alien-based infectious matter. It’s the food you ate plus some stomach acid.
My brother, post-puberty, went through a period where he got migraine headaches to the point that he would black-out, and EMS was called, and frequently he would vomit…so suddenly and violently that you would almost suspect alien-based infectious matter.
And my mother had a very large stainless steel pot she left by his bed for this very reason.
I didn’t wonder then and I certainly don’t wonder now what I may have eaten out of that pot, once it was thoroughly cleansed.
If it were used as a chamber-pot, by all means dedicate it to that purpose or throw it out.
But ralphing into it? Maybe I’m splitting hairs but I think the whole notion is absurd.
I have no problem with it. Wash it out or in this case wipe the dust off and put it away.
But dude, don’t you have a trashing can? A nice solid plastic trash can would do perfectly. Say the one in the kitchen or better yet one of the small bathroom variety. If you want to be really obsessive put a trash bag in it. Then no rinsing is required. Simply tie up your barf bag and dispose of it.
Wow I’m now seeing a Saturday Night Live skit involving Ziplock brand barf bags…
In all seriousness, how is the ladle thing any different than the pot thing? You have something on a food storage/cooking/utensil that you don’t want on it, you wash it, and then it’s not there anymore. I’m not seeing the disconnect.
I did want to note, however, that it’s no surprise that a mother and daughter thought the same way about something. After all, they lived together for 18 years, or whatever. But don’t mine me, I am a disgusting, horrible human being.
) the thought of a vomit bowl in the house.