This is bug spray. You either know what that is, or can jump in the forum to ask other people about it.

Why aren’t we giving you more info? Well, we weren’t sure what to write for the Meh-rathon so we decided to look at some past Meh write-ups for inspiration. (You can find a random one here, if you want.) Unfortunately, all that did was make us nostalgic and maybe a little teary-eyed. And then the boss was all “Where’s the write-ups, writer dude?” and we panicked and… uhh… Please enjoy this classic write-up about an entirely different product! Also, feel free to share in the forum if you find one you liked or forgot about or missed entirely.

At my house, we go through towels and washcloths like a Greek wedding caterer goes through china. Hand towels, bath towels, shop towels, dishrags, you name it. It’s towelapalooza over here.

It wasn’t always like this. When I was a young, single fellow, it seemed like a towel could go a week before it needed freshening. Now, maybe I was gross, and should have done laundry more frequently. That could very well be true. But it’s also true that one person, exercising a little bit of personal neatness, can get pretty good mileage out of a towel.

That was the old days. Now I have a pair of young children in my house. They’re awesome. They’re funny, they’re smart, they’re creative, they’re considerate — but they are not fastidious. Every meal generates a kitchenwide debris field of graham-cracker crumbs and spaghetti-sauce splatters. Their hands are constantly covered in dirt, or paint, or food, or Play-Doh, or homemade slime. (I hope that was homemade slime.) Every time they do wash their hands, there’s a 60% chance the hand towel will land on the bathroom floor. In a matter not unrelated to this question of their personal cleanliness, that bathroom floor is a horror show. Towels that touch it are instantly retired.

We need a mountain of towels. The towel supply in our linen closet is always running low. We could wash a load of towels every day just to keep up. I mean, it’s, like, hard to imagine how many towels we’d have to own before I started thinking we had too many. A roomful? Opening the door to such a room, as if in one of those dreams where you discover previously unknown chambers within your house, I would be so relieved. Thank Crom, I would think, there are clean towels. We always need more towels.

I hesitate to even share this, but: My spouse and I split the job of administering the kids’ baths. Imagine my dismay to learn the washcloth I’d considered one child’s face-rag was the same one she’d considered the other child’s butt-rag.

Aaaaaaaaaagggggggghhhhhh, we need more towels.

But maybe you live with fewer people than I do. Or maybe the people in your house are just better at domestic hygiene. Maybe, at your place, you can use a washcloth, wring it out, hang it up, and come back to it a day later confident it hasn’t meanwhile been in anyone’s crack.

Even so. Sooner or later, you’re going to have a house guest. Or an overnight romantic partner. Or new babies. Or all three, in that order. “Nah,” you’re thinking, “I’ll maintain my current, tidy, childless/empty-nest/monastic/solitary lifestyle in perpetuity. The two bath towels I own now will see me through.”

I used to think that too. I was wrong. And even if I’d been right? Pressure cookers fail. Aquariums leak. Cats have kittens. Blood spills in kitchen mishaps. Miniraft sails tear as you’re drifting the River Moth. A time is coming – for you as it did for me, as it does for us all – when you are going to wish you had a ton more towels. Start stockpiling now.