I wipe, therefore I am.

 

I went to the grocery store last week. I haven't been able to find toilet paper since the virus scare began, so I asked the clerk when they put it on the shelf.

She said, “The toilet paper is out every morning, but you have to get here when the doors open because folks dash to that aisle. It is gone in minutes.”

 

Sprinting to stock up on toilet paper seems plain humiliating to me. I just can’t do it. I do not have diarrhea. I am somewhat regular. But there are two of us in our remote location who do occasionally need to wipe our rear-ends. And one of them would never win the race to the paper items. He is too easy to trip.   

 

Do you suppose the White House is having this problem? Perhaps that is why President Trump is so cranky. He cannot properly wipe. Stay with that image a minute. Ahhh. Your body’s serotonin level just improved. 

 

So, I went home and ordered some toilet paper online. I'm getting 10 rolls for $8, with shipping at $16, and it should arrive in two months.

I told some friends this story. One of them drove an hour to give me four rolls she didn’t think she’d use. She said it was a mercy mission from God.

 

I’m not sure we’ll make it two months when our 10 rolls should arrive. So, I’m trading milk for toilet paper with the couple in their 80’s across the street. My masked visits are planned around their television schedule. I cannot show up during reruns of "Gunsmoke" or "Bonanza." Otherwise, I’m on a roll.

 

We wipe, therefore we are.