Ah the luxury of toilet paper!!! This modern commodity, also known as toilet tissue, TP, butt wipes, and shit tickets, has replaced the more primitive method of grabbing a handful of leaves saving the potential ass wiping via poison ivy flora. As children, we were instructed to count toilet paper squares in an effort to conserve the supply that accommodated the four adult and five child asses that shared the one household crapper. Mama sternly told us to count four squares for P (1) and six for S (2) with honesty being the understood shit ticket policy. I remember lots of bitching on her part for all of the cheating that resulted in the use of far more TP that in her opinion was necessary. Our unspoken sibling conspiracy of usage according to individual quantity measurements that differed from mathematical rules learned in school kept her temper hot wondering who the over-users were. Counting squares, a comical memory from our childhoods, reared its head again when Wil informed me last week that he was counting squares in an effort to stretch our TP supply. Although there are plenty of leaves in the back yard, we are not desperate enough yet to necessitate this practice in our current crapper.

Until next time, keep your head above the droppings.