As you are, by now, well aware -- Hub and I are retired, we live in the country, and many days there is nothing that occurs in a 24-hour to pleasure our senses. This can drive one to derive pleasures from things in ways that to others, in a more active and stimulating environment, appear completely immature and idiotic. And that is what leads to this next story.
Now it just so happens, that Hub sometimes goes to town thrice in one day. For fuel, tire, batteries, …or just to take the puppies for a drive, but despite the oft-taken trips to town, Hub will not take with him even the shortest list of food or cosmetic items I may need. He will pick up a prescription, or gladly fulfill a 23-item list of mechanical or hardware items. He might even grudgingly go to the bank or pick up the mail, but groceries or cosmetic shopping is out.
But this week, the need was critical. When we were in town together I went to the grocery store, while he went to the drugstore to pick up a prescription. Before he went his way and I mine, I told him toilet paper was on sale at the Drugstore and we needed to get some. “So while there,“ I said, “could you just grab a couple of packages.“
He grudgingly said he would.
But, of course, when we got home, I discovered he had not bought the T.P.
Yesterday, when I opened the T.P. cupboard in the bathroom to get a new roll, there were only three rolls left, actually two after I replaced the empty roll.
So when he announced, a short time later, that he was going into town to check out some hardware on sale I said, “Oh, good. And while there you can pick up the T.P. you didn’t pick up when we were in town the other day.”
“Okay,” was his response.
Now Hub does have my sympathies. I know how frustrating the paper-aisle can be. With shelf tags that one can never be certain if they match the item above or below the tag. And each brand making 23 different kinds -- lotion laced, unlaced, double, mega, regular, big carboard centres, small centres, quilted, pillowed, woven, etc. etc.
So, I was sympathetic and not too surprised when Hub came home with a 12-pack and said, “I don’t think these were on sale though they were above a sale tag. I think someone just deposited them there by way of exchange when they noticed the sale stuff. I paid an arm and a leg for these. Probably averages out to $3.50 a roll.”
I was only half-listening to this rant cause I know how frustrating the paper-aisle can be.
Now this morning, I checked the cupboard to see if the T.P. was properly put away and in doing so, I remembered what Hub said about how expensive that T.P. was and reached out a figure tip to feel the texture of the T.P. he had bought.
Something that felt like an electric current made me quickly pull my hand back. And something else made me reach out and touch it again.
I came to the kitchen for coffee.
“You know, Hub, I have to tell you something about that T.P. you bought. I felt it this morning -- well you know, just to see how it felt. And you know that warm fuzzy feeling you get when you are totally overjoyed, or that tingle you get in your spine when you hear really fine music? That’s what happened when I touched that T.P. Fine, mighty fine.
So now, since you are going back into town today, you will need to pick up something else. Go to the Drugstore and see if they have regulatory pills, meaning pills that will ensure we only need to go once a week. You know, something, that works like those birth control pills that allow women to suspend their menstrual flow until after the beach party.
And since they are always advertising pills for people who urinate too often (maybe get some of those while you’re at it)…they must have something for those who do the other too often. In the meantime, the eating of cereal or yogurt with enzyme-activated biotic cultures are suspended.
And we are both on a diet of strictly rice and cheese until the all-too, way-too, expensive T.P. is used up.