The power of clean

As I sit on the potty with nary a square in sight, I open the cabinet under D's sink, doubtful yet naively hopeful, that on a day like today, someone, somewhere will take pity on me and that there will be a single, solitary roll of tp just waiting to be lovingly and needfully unwrapped. I lean over, reach around the door and move the bottle of mouthwash. Nothing. I clumsily knock the can of shaving cream out of the way, still hopeful and I spot...the canister of Clorox wipes. I pause for a second or two and think, "When was the last time my bottom got a really good scrubbing?"