If you’re like me, you spend most of your week scrolling through Amazon reviews, looking for the online reatiler equivalent of KSK’s “Best Internet Comment of All-Time.” Monday is Automotive Parts & Accessories Day, Tuesday is Boating & Water Sports Day (kinky), etc. etc. etc. Luckily, today is Health & Personal Care Day, which is probably how Redditor “velasha” stumbled across this review for Kleenex Facial Tissue, White (Pack of 36).
I’m not sure what this person is referring to, but what a deal.
And for the screencap averse crowd:
I want to start this off by thanking Kleenex for selling these in 36-packs. I’ve put it on subscription, and if they want to start selling a 72-pack, sign me up. I have three reasons for needing this much Kleenex, and their names are Liam, Samuel and Hank.
This is how it goes in this house. First the Kleenex disappears. Then the toilet paper. Then they go for fabrics. And you don’t want it to get there, unless you’re ready to invest in a five gallon drum of Fabreeze.
This used to be a good Christian home. But it’s not about moral judgment anymore. I’m way beyond that. I’m in survival mode. If I don’t supply absorbent paper products, I’m going to find my dish towels hidden in the basement, stiff as aluminum. The other day, I almost cut my hand on a sock. I am sorry to speak so frankly, but with three teenage boys, a woman has got to be practical.
The funny part is, they think they’re being sneaky, with their 45 minute showers and sudden need for “privacy”, as if I’m going to walk in on them journaling. They slink around the house like unfixed cats, while I try to announce my location at all times. No one needs to ask me to knock anymore. I knock on the walls. I practically wear a cow bell. I’m not looking to catch anyone by surprise, believe me. I’m just trying to get through this.
The other day my husband was watching me unload the groceries, and he asks me, all sweetness and light, “Honey, what’re you doing with all that Kleenex?”
I about knocked him off his chair. (Via)
This family spends as much money on tissues as most teenage boys do Vaseline.