How to Deal with First-World Problems
Sitting on the porcelain throne in my home, I actually do feel like a queen. All regal and imperial.
Life decisions are discovered and made there.
Candy Crush levels are passed on the first attempt. Twitter feeds are read. Instagram hearts are given out. Facebook friends suddenly are interesting; I now want to travel to 3 new locations and I know how to decorate my house. Swiping over to the news app, I discover that politics haven’t changed and there’s another crisis…somewhere.
It’s a very productive place.
Until that moment…Looking to my left. An audible sigh escapes my lips. There is exactly one sheet of toilet paper on the roll left on the pitiful, brown, cardboard roll.
A minuscule, tiny little sheet. It doesn’t matter that I buy double-ply, Bounty-like, extra soft toilet paper. No matter how you fold, hope, and pray…that is not going to be enough toilet paper.
Umm…No. It’s not. Let me help you and save you the trouble.
The audible sigh turns inward. Frustration begins to build. And Build.
Slowly turning inward…I begin to asking myself some very important questions of life.
Who is near that could rescue me?
Is my husband home? Would the children be able to find him? Does he have his phone? Maybe I could text him; I really hope it’s not on silent so he’ll hear it.
Should I holler or just hide in here till I’m missed. Would I get 10 minutes of alone time if I just stay in here!! Or, would I get 20 minutes?
Suddenly, this predicament isn’t so terrible.
Are we out of toilet paper?
Panic begins to ensue. Racing thoughts of who gets to run to the grocery store and WHAT am I going to do now start to fill my mind.
Breathe! In through the nose, out through the mouth. Calm. I must find calmness.
“No. I don’t think so,” the thought quickly emerges. I turn around and look on the back of the toilet. Yes, it’s there. The extra roll.
I think it’s time to get my family’s eyes checked. Surely there must be a vision problem. Oh, wait. let me check the drawer. The one…next to the toilet.
Yes, it’s true. It’s right there.
The second emergency roll of toilet paper is still there. *facepalm*
The receding panic is now being replaced with pure irritation.
Where have I failed as a member of society and this home?
Haven’t I instructed my children many, many times to replace the toilet paper roll? The process really isn’t that difficult. Take off the old roll, throw it away, and put on a new one.
Am I a failure because this simple task never seems to get done?
Do I replace it or Leave it?
This is a hard choice. I could just quickly replace it…I’ve done it a lot. I know how the process works. It only takes 3 seconds if I get the spring-release done correctly. 5, if I don’t.
My hands slowly reach up to the emergency roll, my motherly fingers are ready to do this job and get it done.
But then. I stop. Frozen in time.
The truth about parenting is, if you are going crazy, then you are probably doing it right. Unknown
Not this time. Nope. Nada. Ain’t doing it. It’s time for a Mother-Children Meeting.
The Queen has decided. Her subjects will conform. The decree has been given or heads might roll next time!