Me (carrying four rolls of toilet paper to the bathroom)
DH: Don’t use them all at once!
Me: Don’t you judge my bathroom habits!
Which reminded me.
Years ago, I worked at a local teaching hospital, in one of the graduate programs.
I guess this other employee got bored one day, so she was complaining to me about the amount of toilet paper her husband used. Apparently she wanted him to ration it out, only using a certain number of squares each time he used the bathroom. I forgot the number now, but she felt very strongly about it, and talked to me about how she made sure to not use any more than that each time. It was a pretty low – and unreasonable – number. I want to say it was four, but it may have been five.
That complaint has stuck with me for a few reasons.
First – that she would count. I mean, it was the days before cell phones, so maybe she got really bored in the bathroom. She was older, so maybe number two was a struggle for her. Counting sheets could keep her busy when she was done reading magazines.
Second – that *this* was her marital complaint. She was almost ready to divorce over it. No problems with him cheating, him spending money, him lying. Nope. Not that he did those things, mind you. He just used too many damn squares of toilet paper. And I would totally not blame him for doing any of those things, especially because that would probably mean he got to use enough toilet paper to actually wipe his ass.