My husband was concerned for my son when he came home from work one day hacking his lungs out of a cough. Naturally, I was confused myself because of our recent plunge into the land of the Vegans.

But after intense interrogation, my son admitted to having dealt with 'pool chemicals'. I felt secure in the rep of our eating habits, but dad launched his 'Safety Lecture'. This one dealt with chemicals, the grossoddities of getting them on your skin, in mucous cavities, under finger- and toe- nails and inhaling.

Then, he talked a few hours more about the safety equipment invented to protect one against those chemical hazards. He ended with:

"If you're not suppose to inhale them, more than likely you shouldn't touch them."

..... "Then," I thought..... "Well, where does that leave me?"

I handle dirty laundry for six, count 'em: 6, people. Talk about toxic waste! And there's no industrial-strength rubber gloves or gas masks for homemakers. All I get is a clothespin and cooking pinchers, maybe.

Of course, I hold my breath, but that won't stop the watery eyes and skin blisters. And after 27 years of washing EVERY day with those fumes, I begin to wonder: will our recent plunge into the land of the Vegans do me any good.

I learned a lot from my husband's 'Safety Lecture'. So tonight, when he gets home from work, we'll have a little talk about hazard pay.