As if my already substantial collection of feminine hygiene products wasn’t enough, it continues to grow at the speed of light. You see, although I buy the hush-hush items in bulk, with intentions of waiting six months between restocking, I repeatedly make blunders like the one I made today: out and about with Emily at Reynolda, enjoying tomato soup and cheese biscuits, when disaster strikes. You know what I’m talking about.
Which means we have to load up the 5-month-old in the car and drive to the nearest stockist of the cursed things (in today’s case, Family Dollar) and dole out $4.35 for yet another pack of Tampax Pearl. (Sorry Mom, I had to say it).
And that makes box number 4. I think I’m good till 2012.