Toilet Paper

So at 3 o'clock this morning I've got to go to the bathroom. Apparently, drinking two Diet Dr. Peppers after 6pm does not make for a quiet night's sleep.

But that is not the moral of the story. So at 3am I find myself in the bathroom with no toilet paper (thank you, paul. what a dick). I had turned on the light, which is unusual because I can handle this business in the dark. AND with my eyes closed. OR drunk if needed, but I also thought I'd take a couple of midol as long as I was up and it was a new bottle and it's got that foil on top which requires more thought and vision than I'd use for a midnight bathroom run.

Still, not the moral of the story. So I need paper. I reeeaaaach under the sink and grab a roll. I put roll on holder (i should print instructions for that damn husband) and pull off a few squares. Now, I'm not sure why I looked at the toilet paper squares in my hand. Maybe I was going to fold them (i'm a folder, not a crumpler.....see 'awkward company icebreakers' on google if you don't know what i'm talking about), maybe I was subconsciously attracted to the black dot that doesn't belong on my crisp, clean, white Charmin.

It was a spider. You've probably already guessed that. He wasn't a live, fluffy spider. Fortunately. This poor little fella got involved with the Charmin process very early on the assembly line. He was pressed into the paper, perfectly preserved and perfectly flat, his eight little legs sprawled out like he'd been smashed by a steamroller in a vintage cartoon.

So here's the moral of the story: turn the light on when you pee to avoid rubbing spiders on your naughty bits.