Toilet Paper Math

I was never very good at math growing up. I have gotten significantly better over the years but I still have issues with word problems and letters in place of numbers. And toilet paper math. Which, mind you, was never taught at any of the wonderful institutions of learning, higher or lower, that I ever attended.

Regular math applied to toilet paper should look a little something like this ((hit it!)):

• You can buy twelve single rolls. This should equal 12. (1x12)
• You can buy twelve double rolls. If a single roll = 1 roll then 12 double rolls should equal 24 single rolls (2x12)
• You can buy twelve triple rolls.  Using the above equation, 12 triple rolls should equal 36 single rolls. (3x12)

Got that?

But that's not how it works.

According to the gurus of toilet paper math at Charmin and Northern and such like places, they have some sort of higher advanced mathematics and magic that allows them to morph double rolls into more than 2 so that 6 double rolls actually equals 24 singles and 12 double rolls actually equal 48 singles and 12 triple rolls--get this--is somehow equivalent to 96 singles. The mind boggles.

And as if that isn't bad enough, then you have to factor in the pricing of said morphed rolls because they vary from store to store ((and day to day it seems)) and God forbid there should be a special or coupon involved.

Factor in the fact that Target, Harris Teeter, Kroger, Food Lion and Walmart are chronically unable to get signs positioned properly on any given day and you can see why, on days I find my self running low on tp, I get this slightly panicked look in my eye. I have been known to stand in the tp aisle trying to figure out the best bang for my buck for long periods of time because, frankly, toilet paper math is up there with quantum physics for me. And God forbid I should have a coupon. Once, one of the Target employees had to bring me the item I wanted to buy, the sign, and the item I should have selected in order to explain the whole thing properly. I was still more than a bit deer-in-headlights as I left the store.

It's really sad.

I truly believe that only Stephen Hawking can do toilet paper math in his head.

Lord have mercy on me a sinner.