I've had a runny nose since the day I was born. It was so bad that when I was little, my constantly running nose used to gross my brother out on a regular basis. I'm sure he was thrilled when I was old enough to finally blow my nose properly and he didn't need to see the show anymore.
I have minor allergies that are mostly just an annoyance, unless you add in a dog like we had while I was growing up. I can't imagine life without the need to blow my nose every day. As a consequence, I buy tissues in bulk.
The thing is, we only do the bulk shopping a few times a year. In the past, it's been enough to keep us well stocked on tissues, so I rarely even monitor tissue box levels. I just take it for granted that when I need tissues, they will be there.
You know all those colds Michael had this winter, spring,and summer? They kind of threw off my tissue inventory.
I didn't notice it until I used up the last box of tissues on Michael's latest cold. (Yes, he's sick again. Waa Hoo!) So, last night after dinner Michael and I ran out to pick up some tissues from Walgreens. Before we went into the store, I pulled out the last tissue from my purse pack and had Michael blow his nose, thinking that would hold us while we bought some more. It should only take five minutes, right?
I sort of forgot that Michael knows about the toy aisle until we were in the toy aisle in the middle of negotiations over possible toy purchases. Michael was trying to stretch my agreement to buy a pack of knock-off silly bands into purchasing every toy in the store when it happened.
You know, the kind of sneeze a kid that still hasn't grasped the concept of blowing one's nose has. The kind that clears out everything that's been clogging his head for the past ten hours since the last horrendous sneeze. The kind of sneeze that makes you wonder how such a small person could fit that much snot into his tiny little head.
The kind of sneeze that covers half of said child's face.
Remember that part about using the last tissue in from my purse? I stood in the aisle staring down at him with this disgusting trail leading from his nose to his chin wondering what to do. I glanced around to see if there was anything cheap and cloth like that I could use and then buy. There was nothing. I considered carrying him over to the paper goods aisle and opening a box of tissues. I was pretty sure we wouldn't make it without him burying his face in my hair and cleaning up that way.
I grabbed the corner of my shirt and gave him a good wipe. Then, I quickly resolved the toy discussion with a "it's silly bands or nothing" alternative and rushed over to pick up the tissues and get my slimy child and my slimy self out of there.
I don't plan on ever running out of tissues again.