The gift that keeps on giving....
So, once again the holidays have come and gone and we can tell which gifts were successful and which were complete flops by the packages still resting under the tree. Usually it's the tin of stale popcorn, the matching umbrella and coupon wallet, and the fifteenth bottle of lotion that sits around the longest. I hate for a gift to be given and not used, it's seems like such a waste. Henceforth, when it comes to gift giving, I've made a resolution to give a gift that will never go unused and unappreciated. I am speaking of course, about the gift of toilet paper.
It's the little things that go unnoticed in your life and you don't realize they are important until they are gone; you know, like a loving family, a roof over your head, good bagels, and plenty of toilet paper on the roll. Really, when you think about it, in most modern societies, toilet paper is essential to a clean and functioning household. Some of the worst memories in my life have come from the end of the toilet paper roll.
Once, I lived in a house with male roommates and when it came to toilet paper, it was deemed as "community" (which means that we all used it and took turns buying it.) I always monitored the toilet paper supply and when it was my turn, I would immediately purchase more, this way we would never run-out. However, my experience in living with boys has led me to believe that they eat toilet paper for breakfast. It seems that no sooner would I buy a pack of toilet paper than we would be out of it. Unfortunately, my roommates did not have the foresight and priorities that I had, so days would go by without proper toilet paper representation. I would remind them, but no toilet paper ever greeted me when I walked in the door. Days turned into weeks, and I couldn't take it anymore. It scared me, what kind of people was I living with that didn't understand the need of toilet paper? No matter how badly I needed toilet paper though, I couldn't give-in and buy another roll out of turn. The boys would never learn that way, but something had to be done. So, when I could manage, I would buy a pack of toilet paper and place it in my closet, taking one roll out at a time and hiding it under my towels in the bathroom. My clever little plan worked for a while, the boys suffered from their own laziness, and I had my own happy stash of quilted toilet paper. The bliss was short lived though, eventually the boys wised up and realized I hadn't been complaining about the lack of toilet paper for a few weeks. As a result, they went on a household search and found my quilted toilet paper along with my collection of Wilson Phillips tapes.
Really, as much as I love using it, I hate buying toilet paper. In an ideal world, the government would issue toilet paper and toothpaste to the masses. It's part of a whole social services plan for good hygiene that would be covered by taxes. Depending on your tax bracket, you could get single ply, double-ply, or quilted. This way, you never have to be embarrassed when your grocery bag rips and toilet paper spills all over the sidewalk and you would never run out at inopportune times. I don't want better roads and safer schools; I want government issued toilet paper.
So until the day comes when the government freely distributes toilet paper, I will bring toilet paper to the masses. The next $10 gift exchange, I am going give something that my boss, my neighbor, and my grandma can use and appreciate. I'm going out and buying $10 worth of toilet paper. No more massive bars of chocolate, pink ear muffs, or tins of popcorn, give the gift that keeps on giving, a truly shitty gift, the gift of toilet paper.
It's the little things that go unnoticed in your life and you don't realize they are important until they are gone; you know, like a loving family, a roof over your head, good bagels, and plenty of toilet paper on the roll. Really, when you think about it, in most modern societies, toilet paper is essential to a clean and functioning household. Some of the worst memories in my life have come from the end of the toilet paper roll.
Once, I lived in a house with male roommates and when it came to toilet paper, it was deemed as "community" (which means that we all used it and took turns buying it.) I always monitored the toilet paper supply and when it was my turn, I would immediately purchase more, this way we would never run-out. However, my experience in living with boys has led me to believe that they eat toilet paper for breakfast. It seems that no sooner would I buy a pack of toilet paper than we would be out of it. Unfortunately, my roommates did not have the foresight and priorities that I had, so days would go by without proper toilet paper representation. I would remind them, but no toilet paper ever greeted me when I walked in the door. Days turned into weeks, and I couldn't take it anymore. It scared me, what kind of people was I living with that didn't understand the need of toilet paper? No matter how badly I needed toilet paper though, I couldn't give-in and buy another roll out of turn. The boys would never learn that way, but something had to be done. So, when I could manage, I would buy a pack of toilet paper and place it in my closet, taking one roll out at a time and hiding it under my towels in the bathroom. My clever little plan worked for a while, the boys suffered from their own laziness, and I had my own happy stash of quilted toilet paper. The bliss was short lived though, eventually the boys wised up and realized I hadn't been complaining about the lack of toilet paper for a few weeks. As a result, they went on a household search and found my quilted toilet paper along with my collection of Wilson Phillips tapes.
Really, as much as I love using it, I hate buying toilet paper. In an ideal world, the government would issue toilet paper and toothpaste to the masses. It's part of a whole social services plan for good hygiene that would be covered by taxes. Depending on your tax bracket, you could get single ply, double-ply, or quilted. This way, you never have to be embarrassed when your grocery bag rips and toilet paper spills all over the sidewalk and you would never run out at inopportune times. I don't want better roads and safer schools; I want government issued toilet paper.
So until the day comes when the government freely distributes toilet paper, I will bring toilet paper to the masses. The next $10 gift exchange, I am going give something that my boss, my neighbor, and my grandma can use and appreciate. I'm going out and buying $10 worth of toilet paper. No more massive bars of chocolate, pink ear muffs, or tins of popcorn, give the gift that keeps on giving, a truly shitty gift, the gift of toilet paper.
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