My dear, departed father-in-law Raymond might well have rolled over in his grave had he somehow known what type of toilet paper John brought home yesterday after grocery shopping at the local Food Co-Op.
Bad enough it’s made primarily from post-consumer recycled materials (“Toilet tissue is one thing that should NOT be made from used paper!”); this new Seventh Generation product is unbleached, to boot, meaning it’s more of a brownish hue. An unfortunate color indeed. Raymond, coming from a generation more in tune with Mr. Whipple’s line of thinking,
would have been dumbfounded by John’s choice.
Thing is, this t.p. was on sale. And if we’ve learned only one thing about being unemployed, it’s if an item you’d want to buy anyway goes on sale, grab as many as your dignity will allow.
Considering we’re talking about toilet paper here, dignity is definitely a concern. I mean, I don’t think the Co-Op puts a limit on how many packages of Seventh Generation t.p. a customer is allowed per shopping trip, yet neither John nor I would feel comfortable trundling a cart overflowing with toilet paper up to the checkout line. We may be sans income, but that doesn’t automatically preclude our innate — at least as we perceive it — sense of decorum. Instead, we simply make multiple trips to the Co-Op during toilet paper sale time.
Why is toilet paper so important, you might ask? Well, apart from the obvious, we discovered early on that recycled toilet paper is mighty expensive here. Say what you will about Whole Foods Market, but we could buy a 12-pack of Seventh Generation t.p. at the Austin store for seven bucks and change. Here in Washington, specifically at the Port Townsend Food Co-Op, the going non-sale cost is just shy of $13.00.
See why we stock up when the price drops to $7.99?
Our first set of visitors from Austin got in on the act too. It so happened the Co-Op was running a toilet paper sale during our friends’ three-night stay in late June. John and I made a point to stop at the store to buy a ream of it every day as we chauffeured them to various sightseeing locales, and being the generous types, on two of those stops our friends picked up the t.p. tab.
A package of Seventh Generation even made it into one of the vacation photos they took of John and me.
Some people might view this as an obsession, I suppose, but no need for concern. We don’t think only about reduced price toilet paper. We’ve been known to shell out cold, hard cash for the occasional bauble when something catches our eye, despite its cost. In fact, just recently John used some of the money we saved on toilet paper to buy Pablo a squirrel on a stick.
We understand it’s important to splurge on the finer things in life from time to time.
We do our best to retain some semblance of class around the house, as well. While we discreetly stack our toilet paper reserves in our walk-in closet, out of sight from visitors, I place a perfectly respectable three rolls in a basket tucked underneath the sink in the upstairs guest bath.
Gives the room a certain understated elegance, wouldn’t you say?
Downstairs in the guest suite/slash/daylight basement, I go for practicality over sophistication. To be certain any overnight visitors have a sufficient supply, in that bathroom I place an entire package of t.p. inside the cabinet under the sink, beside the spare bath towel.
Oh. It appears we’re down to only maybe six or seven rolls in this pack. Um, is it getting warm in here? I’m starting to feel a bit flushed. Oh, huh huh, no pun intended…but gee, maybe I should step outside for some air. Better yet, I’ll grab my car keys and take a drive, do a little grocery shopping to clear my head. Maybe to the Co-Op? I hear they’re having a sale….