Potty Humor

Ever since I was a tiny, adorable, bowl-cut-wearin' tyke, I've thought the words "toilet paper" were like the funniest, grossest words ever. I could be in mid-chase of one of my siblings and all he or she would have to do is yell back "TOILET PAPER!" and I'd trip all over my bony body, doubled over in fits of laughter.

I've always had a very visceral relationship with toilet paper. There's something forbidden about it. And, because I was raised in a home where swear words -- and even the phrase "that sucks" -- warranted a major time out/grounding, "toilet paper" was pretty much the naughtiest thing I could ever think of. It thrilled me. It scared me.

Anyway, now that we're moving, "toilet paper" has taken on a whole new importance. It's almost like it's not funny anymore. See, the house we are moving into is your typical amazing home in Minneapolis. Read: Gorgeous, with old plumbing. We were told that the plumbing is as sensitive and volatile as my feet during a pedicure. Ever since I learned of our house's handicapped pipes, I've been very preoccupied with toilet paper. In fact, I've been downright scared. All I can think of is: clogs. They aren't just a fashion no-no anymore.

There is a very big disconnect between modern TP and modern plumbing. They don't work together anymore. Toilets angrily oppose TP and TP insists on getting "stronger" and "thicker" and sorry, but who needs "heavy duty" (doody!) TP? It's like the TP industry and toilet industry were about to get married, but TP got cheated on by the toilet industry and decided to dedicate its entire life to making life miserable for its ex.

Although, I'm pretty sure it's a cultural thing. I mean, in some parts of the world, there is no plumbing. And in that one restaurant I went to once in Mexico, you were prohibido from flushing paper. In Europe, according to Reddit, there are, eh hem, ways around using TP...aka: get an inside bath. In America, people are like "MORE OF EVERYTHING ALL THE TIME!" despite the obvious restrictions. How very patriotic. So, we end up (ha!) with buttloads  (ha!) of either Uber Toilet Paper or extremely environmentally-friendly TP that is little more than a whisper in your hand -- Thanks, hippies.

(Also? BTW? If my choices in TP were between the clever British girl selling baby wipes for grown ups and those commercials featuring the DISGUSTINGLY open animated bears talking WAY too much about their TP usage, I choose clever British girl. Every time. Super disturbing TP company using stupid bears? Hire a better ad agency. For the love of all that is good and holy. You are absolutely $hitting on TV...and it's not even funny.)

Okay, so anyway, I live in Rochester, where we buy TP in bulk from Costco. There is literally nothing more American. We could sell this stuff on the black market and make a killing. But when the time finally came -- after, oh, 12 billion years -- to buy some more TP, I opted against the Costco run. We are too close to the move to make an investment in "bulk buying" TP. I felt like I would be buying the TP version of "2 Broke Girls" -- well-intentioned but ultimately heavy-handed, unnecessary and not the least bit funny.

So, that brings us back to how hysterical TP is. I'm actually kind of bummed. It used to be so silly and prohibido when I was a kid. Now it's like "This is an actual decision you have to make as a grown up." I hate it. I liked it much better when it was a phrase my sisters could mumble to me in church and make me laugh hard enough to get the stank eye from my parents.

Now? Now it just has the potential to cause real, non-funny stank. I hate being an adult.