The Dirtiest Part Of Your Home, According to Your Birth Month

It’s a good thing that God didn’t give us the magical ability to see germs, because if we could, everyone who visited your home would see what a filthy, unkempt, unsanitary, grubby, grungy, squalid, grimy place it is.

Not everyone’s domicile is equally nasty and soiled, though. To determine exactly what the most revolting part of your home is, we must look to the stars…

April

It’s nice that you have sponges, both in your kitchen and your bathroom. It’s also nice that every once in a while, you’ll place a sponge or two in both places to give visitors the false impression that you don’t live in a living, breathing germ trap. But if any scientist were to take those sponges and place them under a microscope, they would scream so loudly at the sight of what bacterial nasties are creeping and crawling and slithering and squirming in those sponges, every last bacterium would die of fright.

May

Have you looked inside your microwave oven lately? Do you realize it looks like a slaughterhouse in there? I’m not sure what you’re cooking inside that thing, but it resembles the aftermath of a lacrosse team having a food fight at Golden Corral. There are traces of hardened crust that look like they used to be ketchup, macaroni and cheese, ramen noodles, and something that I’m hoping was gravy, because I don’t even want to think of what it was if it’s not gravy. Get a scrubber, some cleaning solution, a pair of rubber gloves, and redeem yourself, please.

June

I say this with the love that only a parent can have and the sort candor that only your best friend can confide in you, but your bodyis the filthiest thing in your home. Even though it’s a medical fact that the cells in the human microbiome far outnumber the cells in the human body—I mean, it’s not even close—why did you choose to wear all of those bacteria, germs, and fungi on the outside of your body? I command you to grab a gallon of liquid soap and stand under a hot shower for an entire season. It’s going to take at least 90 days to clean you up. 

July

Take comfort, little Crab—compared to June, your body is sparklingly clean. It’s your soul that is dirty. Looking at you, no one would have the slightest clue what a pervert you are. No one could believe the sinister revenge schemes you are always plotting. No one, not even the most accomplished horror novelist, would be able to comprehend the wicked glee you take at imagining your enemies suffering. Other than that, you keep a very tidy house.

August

Doormats are there for a reason—you wipe your dirty shoes on them and then enter your abode without tracking mud onto the floors. But here’s the thing about doormats—you’re supposed to do more than just step on them. Every once in a blue moon—say, at least once every ten years—you’re supposed to clean them. Put them through a rugged wash cycle using bleach. Hang them out to dry. Quit treating your doormats as if they were, y’know, doormats. They deserve better than that.

September

I’d say that your floors were the dirtiest part of your home, but I’d only be speculating. That’s because I can’t see your floors, what with all the fast-food wrappers, pizza boxes, clothes discarded in the heat of passion, stacks of hoarded books, and sundry personal items that are blocking your floors from my sight. Maybe your floors are clean under all of that. Or maybe not. Probably not. OK, most definitely not.

October

Can I talk about your bed without hurting your feelings? I’ve already given up on trying to tell you to make your bed every morning, because you’ll just shrug and say, “Why? I’m just going to mess it up again tonight.” But is there a chance in hell that I can convince you to wash your bedsheets periodically? And when I say “periodically,” I’m not directly referring to menstrual periods, but they can be a problem, too…along with the dried sweat, slobber, bodily fluids, and the literally trillions of dust mites who’ve found a final resting place in your pillowcases. You don’t need just a HazMat crew to fix your bed—you need an exorcist.

November

Yeah, OK, about your toilet, which is in your “restroom,” AKA your “bathroom.” As we all know, the main reason people have restrooms and bathrooms is not because they rest in there or take many baths, but it’s because no one wants a toilet sitting out there in the dining room. Toilets are naturally disgusting. They are living proof that we never really eat or drink anything—we only borrow it for a while.

December

Those born in December are known as the Archer, but it’s a pity that you don’t aim so well when it regards your commode. If you don’t know what I mean, I’m talking about the area around your toilet. There are designated federal Superfund cleanup sites that are less toxic than that godforsaken wasteland. You’re going to need some sort of scuba-diving outfit and some form of high-tech autoclave before you can even hope to make that area fit for human habitation again. 

January

I’m surprised that you’re even able to read this, because the screens on your digital devices are so deeply caked in all manner of facial grease, fingertip smudges, and Lord knows what else, it’s a miracle you’re able to make out the words. I hope, for your sake and theirs, that you don’t do any kind of FaceTiming or Skyping with anyone else on those things, because you probably look like a blurry monster to them. There these things known as “alcohol wipes.” You can get like a hundred of them at any drug or department store for only five bucks. 

February

I’m sure that you think your pet is absolutely the most precious, lovable, huggable creature in the galaxy, but between you and me, the thing stinks. But that’s the law of the jungle, isn’t it? Even though the jungle is where the wild things roam free and feel no shame, the problem is that neither you nor your pet live in the jungle. It’s such a dirty little critter, I’m tempted to tell you to take on a leash through a car wash, but that would be inhumane to both of you. But please reserve an entire day at a local pet salon to address your little fur baby’s hygienic issues.

March

Every doorknob in your home is host to more pathogens than the Centers for Disease Control. They’re so disgustingly filthy, it leads me to believe that you’re sticking more than your hands on them, which is a thought so horrifying that I regret even typing out the first part of that sentence. Let’s just dial it back and say that you need to keep your hands permanently dipped in sanitizer, because they’re so dirty, your doorknobs have seriously thought about whether they need to wear masks.