I was ashamed of my lack of planning. I needed the TP but there was none to be had in the master bathroom! I had a difficult choice. I could do the duck walk of shame to go to the door and get my lovely wife to get some toilet paper from the garage ( Seeing as she probably used the last of the previous roll).
Or I could try wiping my butt with some cotton balls I saw under the sink. But are they flushable? Better not risk it.
So I holler for Teresa to get some, and of course she has to ask “There isn’t any toilet paper under the sink?” She is the queen of stupid questions. Can you believe that?
I am going to get one of those gizmos that squirt water on your butt. We can’t afford to hire a buttler.