So generally, when I ask for a tissue, I really want a tissue. “A” as in one, singular. When I ask Kyle for a tissue, he always comes back with a box full of many tissues.

I don’t know why this bothers me. Or why it makes Kyle laugh so hard that it bothers me.

After sacrament meeting one day, I asked Kyle to go up to the pulpit and grab me a tissue because I needed to blow my nose. He looked at me, utterly stymied, until I realized that he didn’t feel like it was ok to go up and grab the tissue box and bring it back to me. Because to Kyle, asking for “a tissue” means bringing back the box.

I choose to file this under weird things that nobody could possibly anticipate about another person before living together: What “a tissue” really means.


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