The delivery guy pretended to struggle with the immense carton. He rang the bell, dropped the box and vamoosed.
I picked it up, singing, “It ain’t heavy. It’s my package.” I’m not the only weirdo who bursts into song nowadays. I’ve caught online friends duetting on “You and I are just like a couple of tots.” (Name that tune?)
My package was too light for a yacht. Too big for an artichoke.
It was 96 rolls of toilet paper.
My friend Dave serenaded: “96 Bottles of Beer on the Wall” and “96 Tears” by Question Mark and the Mysterians.
Friend Mike wondered how long it takes to use 96 rolls. Friend “Aurora” said her household of three used 56 rolls last year.
Why did I order 96 rolls? Since Freud says there are no accidents, it was obviously self-flagellation. Online ordering is elitist. I should shlep by car.
Also: which way do you roll the paper?
Meanwhile, I have a few leftover rolls from last year. So in a few days, the great countdown will start.
I ordered a notebook.
Emily, when I saw that you were writing about 96 rolls of toilet paper, I immediately thought of “96 tears”! Good piece!