We live in a world of technology, and as much as I try to deny it while I’m harvesting glitter here on the Unicorn Ranch, it has become an inescapable part of our daily lives. Try as I might to fight it, (I bore the kids to tears with stories of rotary phones and record players – we still have a working 1950’s Decca record player, complete with albums from my childhood and an ever-growing collection of Flatt & Scruggs LP’s) there is no denying that it has become necessary, even essential.

My kids cannot fathom the concept of being without some type of communication device at all times. They do not understand that A) a phone can be turned off, and B) people do not have to immediately respond to every single text they send. I try to explain to them that “they might just be busy.” Blank stares.

Everywhere I go, it seems like people are always on their phones. At the bank, the doctor’s office and especially at the grocery store. Lady, I know you find this hard to believe, but I do not need to know all of the intimate details of your personal life while I am perusing produce. The lack of discretion people have whilst on their phones is downright embarrassing.

It really used to annoy me that some people find it necessary to be surgically attached to their phones 24/7, until recently.


One weekend not so long ago, while everyone was still happily in dreamland, I was woken by the sounds of one of our cats jiggling the knob to our bedroom door. He does this every single night, multiple times, without fail (well, he used to…he and the other mischief maker have since been banished to the basement at bedtime). The poor guy has yet to grasp (pun!) the fact that he does not, in fact, possess opposable thumbs. Try as he might, he has yet to open a door on his own. While I admit that this could be interesting from a scientific standpoint, (will his great-great-great-great offspring have thumbs? Who’s to know? That whole neck thing worked out for the giraffe, so it’s within the realm of possibility) but as it is 2 am, my sleepiness and feelings of irritation outweigh my scientific curiosity.

Now that I am awake, it is as good a time as any to use the bathroom. I mosey on across the hallway to the bathroom, and as I prepare to take a seat upon the throne, I realize about 1/10th of one second too late that there is absolutely no toilet paper. Not even an empty tube taunting me with what might have been.

Now I don’t know about you all, but paper products are a very hot commodity in my house. Every morning, without fail, the cat with thumb envy inhales his food, drinks a bunch of water and then pukes. Twice. Always twice. We have the world’s only bulimic cat.

Between our paper towel consumption (largely due to our cat with an eating disorder) and the fact that there are 6 of us in the house, it seems as though we should be major stockholders in both Bounty and Scott, but we’re not.

So anyway, I am sitting there and it is too late to change my mind – if you catch my drift – and it is in this moment that I fully come to understand the importance of having my phone with me at all times.

If I had my phone with me, I could have just frantically texted everyone in the house for some help. How many times, I think to myself, have I rolled my eyes at stories of parents texting their kids inside their own home? Ha! That would NEVER be me, I said.

Well played, irony.

What now? I’m weighing my options, which are few. I’m trying my best to come up with some awesome MacGuyver-esque solution to my problem. Sadly, I am fresh out of paper clips, twine, or pinecones even. I determine I have the following options:

  1. Scream my fool head off and hope like heck that Kevin Bacon hears me over the lull of the white noise produced by the fan…..then my “mom guilt” kicks in. Everyone is asleep and I don’t want to disturb them. Duh.
  2. Pull up my pants, walk to the downstairs bathroom, (there is only a tub upstairs) take a shower and immediately burn my clothes.
  3. Selectively choose the least disgusting looking tissues from the wastepaper basket, take a shower and immediately burn my clothes.

I don’t want to spoil all the fun, so I’m not going to tell you which option I eventually selected. I’ll let your imagination take care of that one for you.

After everyone gets up in the morning, I ask about the toilet paper. “Oh,” exclaimed the girls “we decided to do our nails last night and needed it for the polish remover….sooorrrryyyy.”

So what’s the moral of the story, folks? One lesson is to obviously keep copious amounts of toilet paper in both bathrooms at all times, which will of course be my job. It is a little known fact that toilet paper and their subsequent empty tubes possess the super power of being invisible to everyone except for a mom. I have found that dirty dishes, laundry and overflowing trash cans possess this same super power.

Secondly, and most importantly…..always, always, always take your phone with you absolutely everywhere you go. That way, in case I ever get caught in an awkward situation like this again, I can text the kids for help….which may or may not be effective, as this will be the one and only time the kids remember my words of wisdom and take my advice. “Just because you text someone doesn’t mean they have to respond.” Mute…man my nails look fabulous. Back to sleep.

Well played, irony.

Has this or something similar every happened to you? I’d love to hear about it!!

Peace, love and Blessings to All…..