An impressive number of advertisements from my childhood have stuck with me. There were jingles that are still earworms and beloved characters that sold us everything from dish soap to bananas. Some pop right to mind while others lie dormant until the perfect moment presents itself for them to resurface.
Behind Door number 7 is an almost forgotten advertising hero.
December 7, 2025
The other day, while wrestling with the plastic wrapper, an entire package of toilet paper shot out of my hands. It smashed into the glass of water on the vanity counter. The glass, one of my favorites, was a tall, hobnail water glass. The collision launched its contents, nearly 12 ounces of water, like a geyser all over the wall and the floor. The hobnail beauty could only resist the allure of gravity for so long. It succumbed, landing with a heavy crack on the tile floor breaking into large chunks and some sneaky shards.
Cleanup was annoying, but quick. The glass was the only casualty. It simply turned out to be an impromptu eye exam, it was essential to find all the remains of the glass, and a crude, but surprisingly effective, means of cleaning the bathroom.
As I mopped up the last of the water and it was once again safe to tread the tile barefoot, I chastised myself for leaving the glass on the slick, granite countertop in the first place. Then it occurred to me that the glass was merely an innocent bystander. The course of events was set in motion by my manhandling the toilet paper. Suddenly I heard an impatient voice, an echo from another time scolding me, “Please don’t squeeze the Charmin!”
Who knew there could be such consequences? Mr. Whipple really should’ve elaborated.
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