Pink Tissues

I spent the first few months of school sending kids to the bathroom to get toilet paper ("Did you buy Kleenex yet, Mrs. L?" "Nope ... go grab some TP ... I'll work on that.") when they need to blow their noses. Eventually, the teacher I share a classroom with bought a box of tissues, and I felt badly because I teach more classes in the room than he does, so my students used far more of them than his did.

Hence I went to Rite Aid one day to get tissues, chose a box at random, and it's been sitting here being used for what feels like forever. How do I know this? Because the tissues I bought are far some reason blatantly, shockingly pink.

You wouldn't think it was a big deal--certainly not worthy of a blog post--but I just can't stop thinking about the amazing longevity of the box of pink tissues. I swear, we must have used up three or four boxes of plain white tissues over the same span of time that the pink tissues have occupied their spot in the classroom.

Are people more reluctant to use pink tissues? (I think some boys are, actually ... adolescents are kind of strange) Are there more pink tissues crammed into the Kleenex box? How much longer before I can throw away an empty box and replenish with a more amenable facial tissue?

How many licks does it take to get to the tootsie roll center of a tootsie pop? The world may never know ...