No Square to Spare

Of all the neuroses I brought with me from childhood, none is easier to identify than my need to have, at all times, at least 20 extra rolls of toilet paper on hand. For several years I was able to hide my secret and then one dark day he discovered the cache, a multiple Costco shopping trip supply rivaling that of any major hotel.

"What is this?"
"Toilet paper dear".

Jack took over the management of the household toilet paper and deemed himself responsible for maintaining a reasonable supply. Foolishly I trusted him.

"Mom, there's no toilet paper!"

For almost 10 years we have survived with this new order, with Jack managing the bulk of the toilet paper inventory, and I, like any dutiful wife, surrendering my neurotic need to know exactly, to the square, what was in the kitty at all times.

And then we ran out. It was late on a cold and blustery Sunday, far too late and far too cold for any reasonable person to walk the block and a half for reinforcements.

"Mom, there's no toilet paper!"

It was immediate; gone was the confident 46 year old mom so certain that the reserves were being maintained, and in her place, a scared child searching for a box of tissue.

This ride is over Jack. Thanks for your service but clear out the basement honey, I'm going to Costco.