Some products don’t need to be reviewed, but if you’re going to write one it will need to be this good
JOE loves a bit of online shopping, and a lot of the time we’ll depend on the reviews to let us know whether or not the product is as good as it sounds or looks. However, sometimes there are a few products where we can probably cope without a review, and take a punt on the fact that we know what they’re like.
However, that was until we read this fantastic review for Kleenex, which has been most helpful, and possibly shared a bit too much information about this mother’s particular struggles with keeping tissues in the house thanks to the fact that there are three teenage boys living there too. In case the image is not clear enough, then full text is written out below.
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.
Hat-tip to The Poke for this one
LISTEN: You Must Be Jokin’ with Aideen McQueen – Faith healers, Coolock craic and Gigging as Gaeilge
