“My love is like to toilet paper
No doubt there is much to unroll,
but I fear it is flimsy,
Falling apart in ones hands.”
In the morning, I realized that we were out of toilet paper. (I won’t go into why we were out of toilet paper, but it may have to do with my offspring’s habit of dropping whole rolls into the toilet bowl).
So Hope and I decided to take a walk to the store to buy some more TP.
That was Mistake #1.
After our hike up to the store I loaded Hope into the shopping cart. I folded our little umbrella stroller and put it in the cart as well.
After some deliberation, we got our toilet paper. I decided to go with Scott Toilet Tissue because… well… sometimes a girl just needs her TP to be lint-free. (Some of you know what I mean.)
That was Mistake #2.
We walked out of the store, and as I was reassembling the stroller, it dawned on me that I had a bulky 20-roll pack of Scott 1000 tissue to lug home along with two boxes of Mike and Ike’s candy! Dumb. Dumb and dumber.
And upon realization of the situation, my first silly thought was: Oh no! Now people are going to know that we buy cheap toilet paper!
“Uh… Hope baby. I know! How about we push the toilet paper in the stroller (if I can get it to fit)? Wanna push?”
I knew it was going to be a looooong walk home – down busy streets, over the railroad tracks, across a crosswalk. As we trudged home, Hope, who was really too short to reach the stroller handles, would happily “dump” our 20-pack of TP at the most inconvenient times. At one point she got tired of walking and declared that it was time for her to “sit down.” I knew that she was going to get tired, but I was hoping we would be closer to home at that point. Not the case.
So I put her in the stroller and tried to hold the TP pack (and my Mike and Ike’s) with one hand against my hip while steering the stroller with the other hand. This was not an easy task on a narrow sidewalk.
As we lumbered along I realized that the flimsy plastic packaging of my 20 rolls of TP was ripping. Perhaps because it was cheap, perhaps because it had already been dumped by Hope a number of times, but suddenly the packaging gave way and rolls of toilet paper rolled out into the busy street in a bunch of different directions.
I had a vision of Rhema merrily chasing a TP roll into the street, only to rip it into shreds and toss the paper fragments into the air with a “Wheee!”
But thankfully, she was at school.
And thankfully, each individual roll was wrapped in its own paper. I chased rolls (and cars dodged them), as I tried gathering bunches in my arms. I was sweating in the beaming sun, hot with embarrassment, and I desperately had to “go potty.”
Hope, still in her stroller, thought the whole thing was absolutely hilarious. She squealed and giggled as I would pick up a roll, and it would fall out of my arms.
“Mommy so funnnnyyy!!!”
I managed to collect a few rolls in my arms, but I couldn’t carry the toilet paper and push the stroller. So finally I piled as many rolls as I could on the sidewalk and left them there. When Hope and I made it home, we jumped in the van and drove back to where I had left my monument of toilet paper.
Later when I got home I noticed the slogan for Scott toilet tissue:
Common sense that rolls.