"This is not your mother's kitchen anymore," says Alan Levy of the FDA. "The world

is changing, but our kitchen practices are not."

Favorite hangouts for kitchen germs include cutting boards, sinks, and

refrigerator handles of all places. So what's a slob to do? According to the experts, scalding hot

water and liberal doses of Lysol on every available surface should protect you and your

loved ones from gut-wrenching illness or death.

The last time I really scoured my kitchen was about three months ago when I hosted

my Bunko group. I seriously scrubbed my cutting board and counters, knowing full-well

that any stray micro-bacterium would surely be eradicated by Tequila spills.

The sink was Cometized but I've never in my life cleaned the refrigerator

handle intentionally. I may have put my family's health in jeopardy and never known it. All

those times I rinsed little chicken legs and thighs in the sink, spewing fowl juice

everywhere including on my hands... grabbing the fridge's handle, pulling open the door in search of

a Coke. Moving the jars and bottles of condiments, rolling the tomatoes out of the way

until my germ-ridden hand found the Coke. My God, the entire contents of my refrigerator

was contaminated. Not to mention the handles on the drawers, cabinets, paper towel

dispenser, faucets, stove knobs, etc. etc. My kitchen had to be teeming with menacing microbes.

Oh, the guilt. No wonder my daughter complained of a tummy ache the other day.

One of those nasty germs had leached into her delicate system.

I called the kids together and explained to them as calmly as possible that we were

under attack. "It's time to fight back," I told them. "Take no prisoners." Wipe out every

last despicable germ in the place."

We entered the war zone armed with buckets of hot, hot Pine-Sol scented water, rolls

of paper towels and hands gloved in yellow rubber. For two hours, we scrubbed everything

in sight and even the stuff that was out of sight for fear of silent assassins. I nearly passed

out from the smell of disinfectant.

When the job was done, the kitchen sparkled and smelled like a hospital

operating theater. The floor and counter tops mirrored our exhaustion. We stood back in

admiration and suddenly the biggest Palmetto bug I ever saw marched defiantly across the floor.

My daughter screamed and I quickly removed my Ked and beat it senseless. The sight of

insect innards on the spotless linoleum was too much. I wrapped it in a strip of paper

towel, tossed it in the trash and poured the last drop of Pine-Sol on the crime scene.

When it was time for dinner, we put our well-done hamburgers, and well-scrubbed

salad leaves topped with carrot shavings on paper plates and headed for the bathroom.

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