It was the early days of the pandemic and Nancy Adams saw what was going on.
Home from the nursing home she detested but unable to get around without my help, for the most part, she would send me out on almost daily shopping trips.
I'd have to get her various items (which led to inevitable texts and phone calls from me to find out exactly what she wanted) and, inevitably, it would come up.
"Should you pick up some toilet paper?"
But, the thing is, we had TP.
A lot. Well, maybe not a lot but we had enough.
There was a large pack, bought via BJ's Warehouse (I think) that sat unopened for months.
Most of the time I talked her out of buying more but, occasionally, to pacify her, I'd pick up a very small pack. The last thing I wanted was to contribute to the Great Paper Products Hoarding of '20.
Alas, it wasn't necessary.
I know, mother is always right.
Well, in this case, I knew we'd be OK.
The large package was finally opened after Mom passed.
Well today -- finally -- I recognized that we were indeed starting to run out of the forever pack.
For the first time in a long time, I had to buy toilet paper. Not to appease my mother but because we were actually beginning to run out.
There's no great moral to this parable. It's just a simple story that made me smile.
Time marching on.
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