Necessities of Life

There are some things that will start a fight in most any house.

Usually, it’s something that each person thinks the other is responsible for, and often it’s something that nobody is really “responsible” for, like mowing the yard or picking up the dry cleaning on time. It’s an unallocated chore that is a parasite associated with another errand, like getting a lottery ticket whenever you fill up the car with gas. It seldom rates a trip out on its own.

Last week, we found ourselves in that very position as we faced a crisis of biblical proportions.

We were out of toilet paper.

TP is one of those niceties of modern society that we expect, but it’s usually not a chore that gets assigned. Whomever is responsible for buying groceries or supplies gets it added to their list. Nobody thinks about it.

Until you run out. Then everyone thinks about it.

A lot.

Tissues are used in a pinch, but believe it or not, they’re a very different thing than toilet paper. The people who run the solid waste plant hate it when you flush Kleenex.

They hate it when you flush lots of things, but that’s a different topic altogether.

A friend's teenage son decided that paper towels were an acceptable alternative once. $20,000 worth of repairs due to a clogged and overflowing toilet later, he realized that this was not a good choice at all.

When the shortage is discovered, special trips are made to the store, hopefully while nobody is indisposed.

A trip like that could exceed the material available in the reading library.

Sometimes you learn that you’re not the only one with a toilet paper crisis, like we did the other day.

One of our friends sent a text message to the other.

“In the bathroom in Food Lion. No toilet paper or paper towels. Suggestions?”

As soon as the recipient quit laughing (and posted it for the world to read about on Facebook) he responded, “Use your underwear and then leave them behind. Leave the groceries behind, also. Please double wash your hands.”

A reasonable yet fairly innovative solution to a significant problem.

Paper currency, made of a fairly high quality linen, offered a different choice that apparently wasn’t considered.

If all I had was a $10 or $20 in my wallet, the choice between dead presidents and Fruit-of-the-Loom might be a bit easier. If it’s a $1 or a $5, it’s less of an economic decision and comfort factors in.

Depending on how raggy the underwear are (and at our house, some of the favorites are the ones that most resemble something with which to polish the piano) and the availability of a small denomination bill, I might have made a different choice if faced with that conundrum.

Usually, though, I’d be stuck because I seldom carry cash any more and a credit card is going to be fairly worthless in that situation, regardless of the limits on your account.

I guess a person who decided to go commando that day as they ran out for a gallon of milk with only plastic for money could be stuck there for quite a while.

There would undoubtedly be a lot of ‘splainin’ to do.

Especially to the poor kid who discovers the situation when he comes in to mop later that day.