It is a law of nature. Only after the husband has left for some weekend overtime, taking the car, not to return for five or six hours, do you discover that there are not only no feminine sanitary thingies in the house, there is also no toilet paper.

And you find yourself becoming intimately involved with a Viva paper towel, and vowing, silently, that if reincarnation exists, you are TOTALLY coming back as a man.