Like many of you, I suffer from seasonal allergies. In addition to being allergic to most grasses and trees, I am also allergic to cats and dogs – and my husband and I currently share our home with two of the sweetest hairy canines you’ve ever met.

Sneezing, coughing, runny nose, watery eyes – are all a constant in my world. As you can imagine, I go through tons of tissues. As you might also imagine, I’m particular about my tissues. Firstly, they must be white. No pretty pastel colors for me. Oh no. White is the only color of tissue for me. Secondly, and most important –  NO POP-UP TISSUES!

Shortly after we married, I had to send my loving husband to the store for more tissues, and probably a bottle of Benadryl and maybe even tampons. I told him what brand to get and that he better not come home with any pop-ups! He had no idea what I was talking about.

Thus began his education.

In my opinion, the pop-up tissue is one of the worst ideas ever invented (I suspect by a man – solely to irritate women). Some of you may disagree, arguing that the next tissue is conveniently poised for you, ready at a moment’s notice. But, we all know that eventually the system falls apart. One day you hit the place in the box where someone didn’t fold things right, or the machine missed a step, or whatever, but you pull out a tissue and the next one doesn’t show its face. It is stuck in hiding and doesn’t want to come out to play.

This is when you are forced to cram your fingers into the tiny opening and attempt to pry the next tissue loose from the pack. But it doesn’t want to let go. Instead, you end up grabbing a handful at a time, having to stuff the extras back in until you need them, knowing full-well that eventually you’re going to hit the “no-go zone” again. And it’s a fight for the rest of the box. I’ve never had a box of pop-up tissues that wasn’t defective in this most basic way. EVERY. SINGLE. BOX.

In an effort to simply my life and save my sanity, I made an executive decision years ago to avoid the pop-ups at all costs. It is not worth the time or effort, and is especially not worth getting upset over, so I avoid the situation entirely by buying the box where each tissue lays flat, one on top of the other, easily accessible through a sufficient opening.

Now that everyone in the house knows the rules, there are no misunderstandings, no ill-advised inferior tissue purchases, and nobody gets hurt.

Until one day when hubby came home with a roll of pick-a-size paper towels (which, by the way, must also be ONLY WHITE – no colorful prints – just white). The first time I reached for a paper towel and it tore off in my hand a fraction of the size I was expecting, I almost exploded. It was Pop-up 201. The paper towel equivalent of the pop-up tissue debacle. The end of the world as I had known it. What idiot thought of this crazy idea? Probably the same evil genius behind the pop-up tissue, that’s who. I had to put my foot down.

That roll of paper towels was quickly relegated to the garage and I restored my kitchen back to normal working order with a “real” roll of full-sized paper towels, and hubby learned his lesson, (but is now – and rightly so) just a tad fearful of purchasing paper products without supervision.

So if you ever find yourself at my house, you can rest assured that every paper towel you reach for will be full-sized and you won’t ever have to fight for your next tissue.

I just re-read this post and am fully aware that it kinda makes me sound like a crazy lady.

I’m ok with that.