In the realm of essential household items, few things are as universally acknowledged as toilet paper. According to the Toilet Paper Encyclopedia, 69% of individuals feel that this modern convenience is often taken for granted. Intriguingly, if faced with the choice while stranded on a desert island, 49% of people would prioritize toilet paper over food. Clearly, it’s a necessity we all rely on.
To give you some perspective, each tree yields approximately 1,000 rolls of toilet paper. With Americans consuming a staggering 7 billion rolls annually, that translates to 7 million trees sacrificed each year for this basic need. This startling statistic was part of my motivation to experiment with family cloth, a euphemism for “reusable toilet paper.”
For those unfamiliar, family cloth involves using cloth wipes instead of traditional toilet paper. After use, these wipes are placed in a designated bucket to be laundered later. This process requires a few steps: wiping, storing the soiled cloth, and washing them later. My prior experience with cloth diapers made this transition feel relatively seamless. I had already navigated the challenges of cleaning and storing cloth wipes for my child, so how hard could it be for adults?
I had a stash of cloth wipes ready to go, as I had crafted a considerable amount during my pregnancy. With a supply in each bathroom and a small bin for storage, I was all set. Surprisingly, those cloth wipes felt fantastic – soft and effective. For messy clean-ups, a quick spritz from a spray bottle filled with diaper solution made it feel luxurious. I enjoyed the experience, and for me, it was a win.
However, my husband was less enthusiastic. “I have one purpose for toilet paper,” he insisted, “and I won’t have it lingering in our bathroom.” The kids, blissfully unaware of any stigma, adapted quickly, and with me overseeing the spray bottle, they were all in on the family cloth experience. Each evening, I simply tossed the used wipes into the diaper bin. It seemed easy enough.
That is, until a pungent odor began to infiltrate the bathroom. I’m not sure if adult urine has a different pH balance than that of infants, but suddenly, our space reeked of a foul scent reminiscent of a subway restroom. My husband quickly drew the line – no more family cloth. He insisted that we were a red-blooded American family with the means to buy toilet paper, and when the apocalypse arrives, we wouldn’t be resorting to cloth either.
I collected my wipes, cleaned out the pee bucket, and finished off the last load of laundry. My efforts had likely saved just two rolls of toilet paper, which might equate to one twig or something. Unfortunately, my eco-conscious street cred took a hit, but at least the bathroom was no longer a noxious zone, and I had less laundry to contend with. Yet, I can’t help but miss the convenience of my spray bottle and cloth wipes during those, well, less pleasant moments.
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Summary
In my journey to adopt family cloth as a sustainable alternative to toilet paper, I discovered both the benefits and the drawbacks. While the experience started off positively, it quickly soured due to an overwhelming odor that my husband could not tolerate. Ultimately, my foray into reusable toilet paper may have saved a small amount of resources, but it was not enough to outweigh the challenges.