So,

I'm washing potatoes and happen to say to nobody in particular.  "I wonder why people used to say it was okay to eat a peck of dirt a year?"

Frankie rolls her eyes, "You mean in 'olden' days?"

I smile broadly knowing I've got her hooked into a conversation.  "If you say so."

She puts her elbows on the kitchen counter and leans in to inspect the potatoes nestled into the bottom of the pot.  "You missed a spot."

"Think about it Frankie. I had an Aunt that swore it was okay to eat a peck of dirt a year and we would go pluck a radish from the garden, rub some of the dirt off on our sleeve and give that thing a darn good chomp.  Today, I don't think I would be willing to do that."

"Okay," Frankie sighs deeply, "just why is that?"

I clear my throat ready to pontificate.

"I think dirt was cleaner in 'olden days'."

Frankie loses it practically rolling on the floor.  "Cleaner dirt...baaa, haaa, haaa, gasp, giggle, giggle...cleaner dirt...gasp, gasp."

"No, seriously.  Think about it.  When America was but a babe the soil was virgin, mostly untouched by human beings.  Oh sure, animals did their business here and there but mostly the soil was clean and pure."  

Suddenly Frankie shows an interest.

"Then for a long time we continued to take care of the land, tilling it, planting crops then harvesting them.  We even learned to rotate crops so we didn't drain the soil of valuable nutrients."

Frankie:  "I sense an 'oh then' moment coming."

"You're right, and then the population grew and we needed more food to feed it.  In order for that to happen science got involved, fertilizers were concocted and crops grew better, but at the same time the soil was being...for lack of a better word...contaminated."

Frankie grimaces.

Me:  (I know I'm on a roll.)  "Oh, now imagine this...science then decided to add stuff to the seeds in order to grow better corn, tomatoes...everything.  Sure we got better harvests and that's a good thing, right?  But now I'm not so sure I would want to go into a garden pluck a radish, rub it against the sleeve of my shirt and eat it unwashed."    

Frankie remains quiet, but I can tell she's pondering.  I think I've given her food for thought.

I'm pondering too, about the good old 'olden days' when I could go out to my dad's garden and pluck a radish to eat.  Maybe that's what's wrong with me; it's been a long time since I've eaten a peck of dirt a year.

I go back to washing the potatoes.