Hi RHU! Trivia Grrl here again.
*I don't hate children. This child wasn't even at fault. Still...
I've had many versions of this interaction over the years, but I'm going to tell you about this particular one just for the ending.
Our shop sells, among many other things, various brightly coloured plastic pieces of tat designed to appeal to children. The particular one in this story is a ball covered in spikes with a small light inside. The kids love it. I don't, largely because the lights break at the slightest provocation.
On a late night a while ago, I'm starting my final tidy around when some customers come in. That's alright, they still have time. I greet them and keep working. There's two women, a walking around child and a child in a buggy. One of the women grabs one of these balls and give it to the Buggy Child to amuse her while they focus on finding a book for the older child. The ball, naturally, goes straight in the child's mouth. It's far too big to swallow, they're keeping an eye in case she chews a spike off, it's all good. Right?
They come to the counter with a book. We make some small talk; they are the aunts of the children, apparently, babysitting for a while. I scan the book and put it in a bag.
"And the ball?" I'm already moving to ring it in manually.
Woman #1 looks at the ball jammed halfway into Buggy Child's mouth. "Oh, I didn't mean her to get that."
...woman, I saw you with my very own eyes hand it to her.
Woman #1 takes the gooey, slobbery ball from Buggy Child and abandons it on a random display. Buggy Child starts screaming. Woman #2 gives me the stink eye, like this is my fault.
I finish out the sale. I am professional, but curt. As they leave, I go to the display, pick up the ball by one spike between finger and thumb, and head for a counter that has clothes and spray to clean this with.
Woman #2 has seen me. "Oh my god, she's holding it like this! What does she think is going to happen? That's so funny! What a weirdo!"
I came very close to telling her all about my (thankfully, non-existent) immune deficiency, but it felt like tempting fate. I just threw that thing in a bucket of bleach instead.
Tl;dr; I do not want to touch your child's slobber.