The funniest thing that has ever happened to me when ensconced upon the toilet occurred last night.
As you know, The Divine and Very Lovely Ms. Mac
recently graced my humble abode with a visit, and one of my many feverish preparations for her Royal Arrival was to scout out 'specially a jumbo pack of attractively designed toilet paper, all for the delight of my Dear One's delicate posterior.
Indeed, I was even prepared to forgo my usual cheapo stuff and fork out extra pennies for a superior brand. In the event, after all my extra special efforts, I had apparently underestimated the old stocks: the new pack was not even opened during her visit and remained intact for several days after (sigh).
So last night I needed to break open the wonderful, new, luxury brand packet, and lo! and behold! it turned out to be kitchen roll (paper towels) and not botty-wiping materials at all. So much for my special efforts at guest-pleasing: apparently I hadn't taken the time to properly read the label, ahem.
When I saw the length of the tube of paper, I burst into helpless giggles and couldn't stop for quite a while. As our child-free house is unnaturally silent this week, Evil Hubby was quite intrigued to say the least.
I declined to explain my mirth.
He remains intrigued, if not worried.
And while on the topic of toilet paper and men: why is it that men will never, ever understand that females consume more toilet paper than males out of sheer physiological necessity? Why don't they get that we absolutely must wipe, when they can simply shake? I do my best to limit paper consumption and want to
save the planet singlehandedly, but there are some things that simply are