I've been informed, by some very reliable readers, that I'm not blogging enough, that my blogs are hilarious, that the print size is too small, and that my blog is a good cure for insomnia. (That last one came from my good friend Shay, again, not her real name, who read every post in one sitting one long night and enjoyed it.)
Today my friends, I'm getting back to the most basic of basics, that one thing you should never be without, the one product we all know, need, and love. It's the one thing, I don't care how hard certain environmental groups push, that should NEVER BE REUSED. I am referring, of course, to Toilet Paper. More importantly, commercials about toilet paper.
I loathe commercials. My children will tell you that watching TV with me is horrible because I can, and will, watch no fewer than four shows at the same time for no other reason than I cannot abide watching commercials. I know what products I need and I know where to find them in the stores. So unless that maxi pad is lined with gold, that toothpaste can double as a frosting in a pinch, or that hairspray is suddenly a magic weight loss treatment, there's really no need to advertise. I, like about 99.999% of everyone I know shops more by PRICE than anything else. I don't care if that paper towel comes in 50 different sizes. If it's $1 more for fewer sheets, Homey ain't gonna by that. (Oh yes, I've started referring to myself as "Homey." I think it's cute.)
My aunt used to decorate with toilet paper. "Go get me a roll of green" she'd tell my cousins. I always wished we could get colored toilet paper. Alas, the rolls were smaller and the price was larger and therefore we had colored toilet paper only once. (Hang on to your hats, my friends, this story takes a turn for the weirdly gross.)
See, when I was in high school, not only was I transfer student who liked to read and write poetry, but my father was the English teacher who was tough when it came to grading. Can you say, "SUPER POPULAR?" (No, I can't either.) So every time there were doings at the school, which was pretty much every weekend, my classmates and other students with an artistic bend and no curfew, would troll out into the night and TP our house. (I'm told this practice is now illegal in many places, which is stupid because TP doesn't do any real damage. One good rain and it's pretty much gone. Oh yes, I ache to go back to my old hometown and exact some tissue laden revenge, but I'm not willing to pay the fine.) Anyway, one night, some extra creative juvenile delinquents hit our house with several rolls of Northern's finest pastel paper. Pinks, blues, greens, and the rare yellows fluttered in the late October breeze one Saturday morning.
It wasn't bad. A couple of random bits of twig here and there, but it was the one time we had colored TP, so that made up for the fact that it was...you know...used.
My mother now uses a TP that is so thin, not only isn't it absorbent, as so many others are, it's actually translucent. I'm not kidding. Oh, sure, there are like 3000 sheets on each roll. But ya have to use 90 at a time before you get even close to a "clean" feeling. And forget about blowing your nose in it. I actually gave myself a paper cut on the face trying to blow my nose in some at my mom's house.
TP, they tell me, has many uses. Okay, I knew TP had one use, and some preschool teachers would ask for the cardboard rolls, so that's two, right? And then there's the nose blowing thing. But recently I saw something that opened my eyes to a new world of uses for the beloved product.
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| Boys, we're gonna need the two ply on this one. |
Some people claim to make dresses out of TP, as seen in the pic above. Yeah, I have my doubts. I tried doing that once for a fashion show in our youth group. All I'm going to say is that thank goodness I had no trust in the strength of my garment. Making clothing out of something that's designed to dissolve is just not...right. Call me crazy, but I always like to end an evening with at least the same amount of clothing as I started it.
I watched a road crew patch crack in the road with toilet paper.
Now, this is a point that will start an argument at our house. Hubby says it wasn't TP. I say, it looked like it, it fluttered in the breeze like it (Who would know better than I?) and it was ROLLED LIKE IT. Road crew Dude had three rolls of the stuff on a plunger handle. He'd unroll several squares, then stuff it into the crack of the street, and tear it off with his foot. I was so amazed, watching him, I didn't move in my car, which backed up those trying to get out of the grade school parking lot. I ignored the honks. I was watching SCIENCE! (Or, at the very least, I was watching the sad state of our city budget at work.)
All the way to work I was thinking, How strong it that toilet paper and why haven't they advertised this?
"SO STRONG WE CAN PATCH A ROAD WITH IT. NOW PUT THAT ON YOUR DELICATE PARTS AND RUB."
Okay, I'm not a pitchman.
"IF IT'S STRONG ENOUGH TO STAND UP TO SUBURBAN TRAFFIC, IT'S STRONG ENOUGH TO STAND UP TO ANYTHING YOU CAN PUSH OUT."
Hmmmm, that's a little icky.
"THE STIMULUS PACKAGE GAVE US MORE MONEY TO PATCH ROADS WITH THAN WE KNOW HOW TO SPEND AND WE'VE DECIDED WE'RE GOING TO STRETCH THIS MONEY FOR AS LONG AS WE CAN BY DOING THE LEAST AMOUNT OF WORK POSSIBLE. TODAY, WE PATCH WITH TP. TOMORROW IT RAINS. THE NEXT DAY WE PATCH WITH TP. WE LIKE THIS BLOCK AND WE WANT TO WORK ON IT FOREVER. YOUR TAX DOLLARS AT WORK."
That one might be a little wordy.
"FORGET THE BEAR AND THE PUPPY. THIS TP IS MANLY ENOUGH TO PATCH ROADS!"
That's the one we'll go with! Yes!
Well, I think if we've learned anything today it's that toilet paper can be useful in ways we have not considered.
And, Sarah's childhood was pretty messed up.
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