How I Know It is Winter

Here's how I know it's winter and how I know everybody is sick of winter.

Today in the ladies' room there wasn't just one bottle of hand lotion, there wasn't two bottles of hand lotion, there were three bottles of hand lotion.

We are all sick of winter.  So are our hands.

Wash your hands. Wash your hands.  Wash your hands.

Walt Kowalski is struggling, too.  He lotions and lotions and lotions and wears gloves all the time. But this season brings a double edged sword.  Wash your hands, GERMS and DIRT! But the industrial soap in most restrooms is so harsh and full of antibacterial chemicals that it makes his hands worse. He needs to carry his own soap. 

The other day, as he was getting dressed for work, he called to me from the bedroom.  "Help! I can't button my pants."

I called back, "I don't need another reminder we need to go to the gym more, thanks."

"No, you don't understand, my fingers are so split and sore that I can't get the button through the button hole of my new pants. If I try, my fingers will bleed. "

My heart breaks for his poor hands. 

Come on spring!

(Yes, I know I took another photo in the bathroom!)