I’m phasing out tissues and their cute little boxes.

Somewhere in the dark recesses of my the-way-things-should-be sits tissues. I was raised to believe that a civilized person didn’t use toilet paper for crying or a cold. Tissues were necessary. It meant you were a safe distance away from the old guy in a pickup truck who pulls a smushed roll of TP out from under his bench seat.

Turns out, I am that guy.

I don’t have a pickup, but every time I need to blow my nose, wipe mine or someone else’s tears, pick up a hairball the cat hacks up, or even tone down my blush, so I don’t look like Phyllis Diller, I reach for the toilet paper. The tissue box sits somewhere, but I don’t even bother.

Toilet paper is the superstar, the all-in-one.

It’s the same stuff really, just two different formats. Someone must have come along in our “evolution” and declared that a roll of toilet paper was plebian. That it conjured up images of people sitting on the commode, doing their business.

I guess no one wants that type of… intimate visual that close to their face, so the tissue was invented.

Cute little squares in a pop-up box with decorations and different colors. Some tissues are even scented or have lotion in them, although I’m never sure how that’s possible. Flowery squares of fluff completely remove the visual of, well wiping.

I think that’s how they got their start. Fancied up versions of the real thing so people at banks or doctor’s offices would have something to offer a customer with a runny nose.

Could you imagine needing to wipe your mouth at the dentist and they plunk down a roll of toilet paper?

Ha! That kind of fun might make getting my teeth cleaned worth it.

I suppose certain places, where a level of decorum is expected, need boxes of tissues. But no one is gargling in my home, nor do I loan out money, so I’m getting rid of tissues.

They’re slackers. They can’t even fill-in for toilet paper when the roll is empty, and a person is unable to reach the cabinet. Tissues are too frou-frou and slip-around soft.

I don’t care how cute they are. They’re not towing the line, and they take up space.

So, I guess what I’m saying is if you come to my house and start to cry, the tissues are on that little roll by the toilet.

My thoughts from the laundry room. Tuck in.

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