We were out of toilet paper.
It’s surprising how something so mundane can remind you of when you used to be single. I remember I always had toilet paper when I needed it. The number of rolls in my house was always somewhere in my mind. It was part of a jumble of other useless information like ‘a cockroach can live nine days without its head‘; or ‘the fear of the number 13 is called triskaidekaphobia‘.
First of all, who conducts research on these roaches? Kill them with fire! (The roaches … not the researchers… Okay, maybe even the researchers. Burn them all!) Secondly, a number you should be afraid of is seven because seven ate nine. The other number is the Huduma Number (Namba?). Not the number itself but the process of getting one.
Eve and I stood there in line. She had already made a friend and they were talking about the future of the country or whatever one talks about in these situations. I was singing ‘Baby Shark’ in my head and avoiding eye contact with everyone. Eve tried to introduce me to whoever it was she was talking to and all I did was smile that ‘proper’ smile and say, “It’s a pleasure meeting you.” Of which it wasn’t. It was no pleasure. At. All!
Something about me you should know is that I can be terribly antisocial.
We were in line for about two hours. The data entry process is apparently *sensitive* and *utmost care must be taken to obtain this data*.
Anyway, after data collection, we went shopping.
It wasn’t that bad. We went out to lunch first.
Pro Tip: If you’re going shopping, go on a full stomach. I’ll explain why.
After a wonderful lunch of various meats and of course, fries (because fries are life!) we went into a supermarket. We had a whole list of things we wanted to buy. Nay needed to buy but we did not follow the list. It’s so sad when God brings two impulse buyers together.
Nice one, Jesus. You got us there.
Eve is more thrifty than I am, so whenever it comes to clothes or accessories or vitu za soko, she’s your girl. Me, I was given the gift of bougie-ness. Vitu za supermarket ni mimi. I reign supreme in buying unnecessary things. Thankfully, since we had eaten, the snack aisle was not enticing. I usually end up buying all the snacks and a roll of TP as the snacks had to end up somewhere eventually… But not this time. This time we bought fancy unnecessary stuff. A new flask, a new bathroom set, some hair cream (she has braids, I don’t have hair), cake mix, peppermint oil. Also known as ‘the essentials’, right? Ha ha.
Anyway, we shopped, we came home and unpacked and then we found out we forgot to buy toilet paper.
“Are you for serious?” I asked.
“For really serious,” she said.
Then I caught feelings because surely this woman needs to be the sensible one in this relationship, right? I can’t waste our money alone. She needs to remind me that as I’m using this cash unnecessarily I should remember the damn toilet paper. And perhaps that we need to eat. I was not thrilled that I had to go out and buy something else na tumetoka Supa.
But what is a man to do? I went out and bought some toilet paper hapo kwa kiosk. She took the pack and stored it wherever things are stored in the house nowadays and went to the loo to replace the used up roll. I went to our room to change out of my jeans. The ‘boys’ were not feeling very happy after a long day in jeans. Richard was complaining.
Later, I went to the loo for undisclosed reasons.
Then I got angrier. There was the new roll of TP but she had replaced it wrong. And I have told her time and time again! I even showed her a diagram:
Anyway, we didn’t fight. I took a deep breath (which was a big mistake given the location) and realized, that it isn’t a big deal.
Tasty food has incredibly horrible aftereffects.
I could have made a fuss but that would have made me feel like shit.
And there isn’t enough toilet paper in the world for that.
This Post is About has been nominated for this year’s BAKE Awards in the ‘Creative Writing’ category.
Do a brother a solid and vote for it to win.