Growing up my parents provided my sisters and me with everything we needed and then some. We had a great house, nice clothes, plenty of food…we participated in any extra curricular activity we wanted. We even went on the occasional family vacation. They did a great job. However, all of these wants and needs met did not come without sacrifice. Both of them worked extremely hard and we always had a strict budget. Us girls were no stranger to the hand-me-down and we learned the meaning of “bargain shopping” at a very young age. We all had high school jobs. Mom and dad expected us to work and learn the value of a dollar. And…I am certain there were times over the years where mom and dad had to stretch a penny or two. It was a modest, but sweet life.
While my family and I were back in my hometown celebrating Thanksgiving, a very distinct change became obvious to me. It’s been twelve and a half years since I left home. I don’t know how I missed it until now. I was up very early one more nursing Granger and I got to looking around. My parents just finished a massive kitchen remodel this year and have been commissioning a local contractor to complete other various home improvement projects. Mom put up not one, not two, but FIVE CHRISTMAS TREES this year. Every room in the house has a new piece of furniture, piece of artwork, paint job, or rug. In fact, very little of my childhood home remains the same as it did when I was living there. You might say the old Yergler homestead has gotten what the kids today are calling a “glow up.” A BIG one.
Except one thing.
The toilet paper.
No matter how many daughters my parents get through school and living on our own. No matter how financially independent we become…my parents still stock their bathrooms with toilet paper so thin and so flimsy, you have to wrap your dang hand in it fifty times just to get the job done. I swear. This is the same T.P. they use in prison. Bless my mother. Friends and family joke about it. They ask her why. She does her best to meet their playful questioning with valid reasons. “The rolls are so big! They last forever!” “That thin paper breaks down easier. It’s easier on the septic system.” “It’s just what I’ve always bought! I don't know any different!” Lord have mercy.
All I’m saying is, my parents are empty nesters. They’ve worked their whole lives providing for their kids. Making sacrifices and balancing budgets just so we had what we needed. This is their time. Mom and dad, when it comes to your poopy paper….treat yo’self.
