Slices of Life: Double soft or triple strong - how do you roll?
I'm embroiled in a toilet paper conundrum. For years I bought the same brand and was satisfied with the quality of the product. I even got compliments on my toilet paper. My friends wanted to know what it was so they could buy it, too. They wante...
I'm embroiled in a toilet paper conundrum.
For years I bought the same brand and was satisfied with the quality of the product. I even got compliments on my toilet paper. My friends wanted to know what it was so they could buy it, too. They wanted to be like me.
Life used to be so easy.
You know how it goes. You never appreciate what you have until it's gone. I took my good toilet paper fortune for granted. Then, one day on aisle 12, I did the unthinkable: I reached for a different brand.
I don't even remember why I did it. Perhaps I compared square footage or squares per roll and was trying to get more bang for my buck. Maybe I was lured in by claims of "triple-layered velvety smoothness" or "double strong, double soft." Most likely, I had a coupon.
Whatever the reason, I rolled over that day and life hasn't been the same since.
The new paper I bought didn't measure up. It wasn't as soft as my brand. Or strong. And it didn't last as long. I knew I could do better.
So I started reading toilet paper labels. I was sure I could find the best brand somewhere buried beneath the fine print.
I went for the big roll, extra big roll, giant roll, mega double roll and finally the super supreme triple rolled roll. One brand even claimed there is nothing regular about their regular roll. Like the story of the three bears, none was just right.
In a quest for softness, I tried one-ply, two-ply, three-ply, quilted action and silky squares. Other offerings included hypoallergenic, unscented, heaven-scented and powder fresh.
There was the brand that promised to be kind to my behind. Another wanted to soften my bottom line. One possessed a unique airweave texture. A fourth claimed to provide plush cushions of softness.
To further complicate matters, each brand offered three or four alternatives - depending on whether you prefer ultra-strong, ultra-soft or ultra-plush.
It all sounded so inviting - like a relaxing living room couch or comfy king-sized bed. I got so wrapped up in my pursuit of toilet paper perfection I lost track of what was what. By the time I decided to throw in the towel and go back to my original brand, there was only one thing standing in my way: I couldn't remember which one it was.
Had there been kittens on the label? I was unsure. Maybe it was puppies or teddy bears. Then again, perhaps it was a baby. Was it quilted soft or angel scented? I didn't know.
So, there I stood on aisle 12, trying to find my way back home.
What could I - what should I - buy? I was tired of reading labels and comparing sheets per roll. Smooth, soft, plush or cloud-like, I no longer cared. I wanted an easy way out.
Then I saw it. The answer I'd been seeking was there on aisle 12, right between the velvety smoothness and the unique pocketed formula. It was nothing more than a slip of paper: a coupon for 50 cents off of the triple-ply double roll with the heaven-soft texture.
After all I'd been through, that was good enough for me.
Jill Pertler of Cloquet is a syndicated columnist and award-winning freelance writer. She can be contacted at firstname.lastname@example.org .