‘Oh, shit,’ I thought to myself. ‘What do I do now?’
I was staying in my brother’s place so I could visit my wife a few kms down the road in hospital. I’d woken up minutes ago, anxiously checked my phone for messages from the hospital, with relief found none and had a shower.
In your own home you know what’s what. You’re familiar with your surroundings. You know how things work. You know just looking at a cupboard or draw what’s inside.
You know, by way of example, where the spare rolls of toilet paper are kept.
I checked on the cistern behind me and next to the toilet brush. Nothing.
There was a single square bum ticket clinging to the roll and I knew that wasn’t going to cut any dice.
I could have called out, but the problem was the layout of the bathroom. If they needed to pass in a roll I would be fully exposed when the unlucky someone slid the door aside and threw it in, and no one wanted to pay for that sort of therapy.
I had to nut this out myself.
In front of me, too far for me to reach anyway, was the washing basket. Nothing but dirty clothes there. Beside me was the shower.
Leaning forward, I tried to see around the shower screen to towards the sink. From the previous couple of mornings I recalled there was some sort of trolley beside the sink with baskets – the natural parking spot for toothbrushes, scrubs, soaps, shampoos and, hopefully, rolls of two ply paper.
From my position I couldn’t see anything but I was prepared to take a punt.
Looking as much like a saddle-sore cowboy as a mostly pantless man is able to, I made my way across the room to the sink and was rewarded with the glorious of sights in the topmost basket nestled amongst the usual bathroom hair and mouth and body cleaning paraphernalia – a solitary roll of toilet paper.
Disaster averted, I thought to myself. Problem solved.
Moments later I was ready to pull on my pants and flush when I was suddenly aware of an odd sensation.
Which is when I noticed an odd smudge of blue on the new roll I’d just waddled back and slipped into place on the holder.
‘Shit,’ I thought again. I leaned in a sniffed the blue stuff. I even tasted it to confirm my suspicions.
And then I quickly had my second shower for the morning…
…because that’s the sort of thing you do when you realise you’ve just smeared toothpaste all over the most tender part of your hinny.
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“Raising a family on little more than laughs.”