Charmin, Charmin everywhere...

When it comes to mothers, my mom could top any mom hands down. Not only has the woman put up with me for the past 25 and a half years (over 26 if you count Cletus the fetus months), but she takes me shopping in order to prepare for my journey to the Orient. Who knew a year’s worth of toiletries added up so quickly? You may be asking yourself, why would one need an entire year of toiletries...Chinese people must bathe as well. I’m going out on a limb here to say that probably one third of what I bought today was probably made in China, but that does not mean that the Chinese sell it in their stores. I’m freakishly fastidious about my personal hygiene products, and after some half assed research, I discovered that the Chinese are not big on tampons, razors for women, or heavy duty deodorant. Apparently it’s just white people that sweat profusely. So now, thanks to mom, I have a year’s supply of tampons, my favorite cheap Aussie shampoo, a shit load of floss, and my own personal supply of toilet paper. Yep, it’s true, toilet paper is not provided in public restrooms, and on top of that, I’m really particular about what comes in contact with my bum, because I believe it deserves the best. Apparently I also need to start developing my squatting muscles, because the Chinese are partial to holes instead of sit down toilets. So now, armed with months’ worth of face wash and Imodium to counteract the shits, I can cross the toiletry/medicine cabinet section off my list of things to buy. Don’t worry dad, there’s still plenty on my list…you can help with the underwear and I pod. I think that came off far creepier than I meant.