Unsafe Kitchen

One thing I am so, so, SO looking forward to about "The House" (when it's just me and C, of course) is that I will have full reign of the kitchen. It will be a Safe kitchen, since C doesn't really cook, and he understands the importance of my eliminating even incidental allergen contamination. (Did I mention that I'm going to start cracking down on purchasing items that are processed in facilities that also process my allergens? Yep. You know that's gonna save me money on groceries! ^_^)

S, however... doesn't seem to grasp this.

I've stopped doing the guy's dishes. Since I implemented the Separate Sponge Policy (they have a sponge for their dishes, I have a sponge for my dishes) and have taken to using the same bowl and plate again and again, I've noticed improvements. I realized that doing regular dishes along with mine and using the same sponge was basically smearing allergic things all over my eating implements and my skin. No bueno.

At first S was really good about doing his own dishes. But the past few days... they've started to pile up. And for me it's kind of a matter of stubborn pride. Like, dude, I'm busier than you are, I'm allergic to the stuff you eat, so you're going to do your own dishes, k?

But last night when I came home from class, the counters are spattered with flour, there's a bowl of seasoned flour sitting out, and he fried his flour-covered food right next to where my muffins were cooling!

Really? Really??

I know it's hard to grasp these things when you don't have to worry about what you eat. But I guess what annoys me the most is not that he doesn't understand, but that when he does stuff like that it takes away my ability to choose. If I decide that I want to ingest an allergen and pay the cost, that's one thing. But when I am exposed with no say-so, that annoys me. Actually, it makes me a little angry.

So I'm really looking forward to having my own Safe kitchen. Until then... I'll keep coping the best I can.

And no, I'm not cleaning up that flour mess. I did that last time, with rubber gloves on. (I will, however, clean the counters again after he does, to get rid of as many lingering flour smears as I can. He's not as... thorough... as I am.)

And really? How do you ask someone to not make food in their own house? You don't. So I just have to put up with it, I think.

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