Seriously. I ran out of toilet paper. The family had just enough to get them through this morning.
I Ran Out of Toilet Paper
Now this is an unusual thing for me– I am usually the uberqueen of overstock, but not in this case. In this case I. Ran. Out. Of TOILET PAPER.
So, well, that was something I had to do today.
I also had to get the kids to school and get the dog to the vet to get his nads clipped.
Getting the dog to the vet to get his nads clipped was really important. See, yesterday, he was left alone –which was not my fault. Okay, it WAS my fault, but it was sort of out of mercy.
See, what happened, was, my friend Sonjia (aka Sam’s mom) called up because she thought her car had run out of gas in the middle of an intersection. The car had not, in fact, run out of gas, which we discovered after I stopped to fill a gas can for her and then poured into the car in what felt like the middle of a very busy street. Anyway, after getting her 4 yo boy across that busy street and into my car with my kids, we ended up waiting for an hour for the tow truck and her inlaws to arrive, and in the meantime, the CHP showed up and used their handy-dandy shove-everything grill to get her car out of the intersection, and in the end? We were gone for an hour and a half, with the dog in the car with the kids.
So when we had to go get Big T from the bus stop, I decided to leave him alone for twenty minutes, and, as we all know, this is a BAD THING. So after we walked in the house, I picked him up to reassure him that no, his people had not been sucked down a black hole and he was so excited he attempted to both hump my neck and stick his tongue up my nose at the same time. For the record? It was an uncomfortable moment for both those involved and those witnessing, and while it’s a good thing I didn’t have to use a tissue because, well, the toilet paper thing, well, it was just a good thing his vet appointment was this morning.
So to get to the vets on time, I had a plan. I told the kids I was going to take a shower. I would be in the shower for twenty minutes. They were under one obligation. They needed to get dressed. They NEEDED. TO. GET. DRESSED. That was it. We’d have time for breakfast, hair combing, and medication, if only they would BE DRESSED when I emerged from the shower.
Well, Zoomboy got dressed, and then proceeded to play with his sister until I got out of the shower and she was still in her jammies and we had five minutes to go (because me, not so good with the time, yanno?) and I yelled. Yup. I yelled. In fact, I yelled at the children so loudly, THE DOG PLOTZED. On the couch.
I did it. First I planned to take his nads away, and then I scared the shit out of the dog. Literally. And made Squish cry, but she got over it. That dog’s NEVER gonna be potty trained. We’re gonna be buying carpet diapers forever.
So I got the kids to school, late, and wondered when we were going to get our SARB letter because, hey, they’re NEVER on time, and then got the dog to the vets.
The vets have a demon kitty.
Yeah, sure, they say he’s an Egyptian hairless, but he wouldn’t let me get a picture of his sunken, demon-yellow eyes. So, while he loved on me, loved on the receptionist, and loved on my phone while I was taking the pictures, I remain convinced he was not a heavenly creature. But that’s okay– I’m a pagan, heaven is overrated. The truth is, petting him felt like petting a warm blooded, stubbly snake, or a REALLY BIG shaved scrotum, and while I wouldn’t tell HIM this (because, did I mention? He was a total love?) the fact was, I missed fluff while this cat was attempting to seduce me with his giant scrotum body. I mean, I get it– his entire ATTITUDE was fluffy, but, well, fluffy can’t always be boiled down to attitude. Sometimes, it has to be an honest to God tactile experience, and this cat gave a different tactile experience, and I think it would take some getting used to. Not that he wouldn’t be a wonderful pet, and a very rewarding one (his purring shook the counter) but they had another cat there, an orange tortoiseshell, and I’m firmly convinced the second one was just so they could bury their hands in his fur.
And I texted my friend and GRL roommate, Ellis.
“Dear God, I am at the grocery store without a plan, because we ran out of toilet paper this morning. I. Ran Out. Of TOILET PAPER.”
To which she responded:
“ABORT ABORT ABORT– Run in, get toilet paper, get out, do not, repeat do NOT attempt to shop! You will spend $200 there and STILL have nothing for dinner!”
“I’ll just get staples,” I reassured her.
Yeah. Famous last words.
So, at the end of the day, as I sat down after doing a load of laundry to finally do my actual job and, yanno, write, I felt compelled to text her with the truth:
“Bad news: Spent $350. Good news: $50 of it was in toilet paper. #dontjudgeme”
Of course, Ellis, being a petite 105 lbs. of awesome, would not DREAM of judging me.
I leave that for you all to do!