We live in an age when advancements in products and technology induce intractable vertigo if we try to stay current. But there is one product humans use every day that remains unchanged.
Yes, readers, I’m referring to toilet paper.
How far have we progressed from the era when leaves were nature’s wipe?
My ancestors went to the outhouse, tore a page from a catalog, and used it for practical purposes. Today we still use paper, and you can quilt it, multiply its plies, and add perfume, but it doesn’t change the bottom line. You are cleaning a mess with something dry, derived from trees.
I hadn’t thought much about it until I heard a podcast address it. The speaker gave an example to expose our archaic wiping habits. Imagine having dirty hands from working in the garden and washing them with a dry, paper towel.
By way of progress, he said there is a minuscule display of adult wet wipes in the toilet paper aisle of most stores. I polished my magnifying glass and located these packages tucked amongst the Charmin.
Here is my evaluation:
- They are no bigger than a single square making any sizable cleaning job a risky situation if you know what I mean.
- They stink. I don’t favor scented products and combining the fragrance of lilacs with you-know-what made me gag.
- A wrong move breached the integrity of the tiny wipes. And using it to cleanse after a movement was a very wrong move.
We have experience with baby wipes having used them on grandsons, and I marvel at how much better they are than the adult version. They are larger even though designed for pint-sized bums. They are so sturdy Edward Scissorhands couldn’t poke through them. And to protect baby’s delicate skin, there are hypoallergenic and fragrance-free choices.
We haven’t had a grandson in diapers for over two years, but I keep a supply of Pampers sensitive skin wipes in the bathroom cupboard. You may think that solves my problem but retrieving them is a pain in the butt.
If I store the wipes on the back of the toilet, I need a chiropractic treatment after reaching for them. It’s not a good look to keep them on the floor, and they refuse to balance on top of the toilet paper holder. And how do I manage to have these backside saviors with me when I am away from home?
If we can carry powerful computers in our phones and maintain a space station orbiting around the earth, why can’t we access wet wipes when we need them?
And about space travel, rumor has it a second spaceship will accompany any future mission to Mars. Will it contain redundant equipment astronauts will need if they run into trouble? Hell, no! That sucker will be full of toilet paper.
Who likes change?
I may have gotten to the bottom of the origination of the cliché, “No one likes change except a wet baby.” Of course, they like change when a soft, sturdy wet wipe is part of the package.
Do you share my dream that toilet paper will become a relic found only on display at the Smithsonian? Do you have a stash of wet wipes in your bathroom? Where do you store them?