I was told by my siblings that when I was born it was more like getting a puppy than a sister.

My seven year old sister, who was the baby when I was born, starting demanding a bottle whenever I got one.

Toilet Paper: How America Convinced the World to Wipe

Toilet paper took its next leap forward in 1890, when two brothers named Clarence and E. Irvin Scott popularized the concept of toilet paper on a roll. The Scotts’ brand became more successful than Gayetty’s medicated wipes, in part because they built a steady trade selling toilet paper to hotels and drugstores. But it was still an uphill battle to get the public to openly buy the product, largely because Americans remained embarrassed by bodily functions. In fact, the Scott brothers were so ashamed of the nature of their work that they didn’t take proper credit for their innovation until 1902.

“No one wanted to ask for it by name,” says Dave Praeger, author of Poop Culture: How America Is Shaped by Its Grossest National Product. “It was so taboo that you couldn’t even talk about the product.” By 1930, the German paper company Hakle began using the tag line, “Ask for a roll of Hakle and you won’t have to say toilet paper!”

As time passed, toilet tissues slowly became an American staple. But widespread acceptance of the product didn’t officially occur until a new technology demanded it. At the end of the 19th century, more and more homes were being built with sit-down flush toilets tied to indoor plumbing systems. And because people required a product that could be flushed away with minimal damage to the pipes, corncobs and moss no longer cut it. In no time, toilet paper ads boasted that the product was recommended by both doctors and plumbers.

Now I want to travel back in time before the days of toilet paper and walk into a store and say, "Jesus Christ, what the fuck am I supposed to use to wipe my ass after I take a shit?"

The most common solution was simply to grab what was at hand: coconuts, shells, snow, moss, hay, leaves, grass, corncobs, sheep’s wool—and, later, thanks to the printing press—newspapers, magazines, and pages of books. The ancient Greeks used clay and stone. The Romans, sponges and salt water.

So on Gilligan's Island, I'm guessing they used coconuts and shells.

I started reading child development books (reading them--not understanding them--I was 4) and making all sorts of plans for my sister's brain. Initially I was against the idea, because I'd wanted that name to use for a doll, but the rest of the principle of a sister was okay.

But I never liked attention in the first place.

eta:

Uh, coconuts? Whose ass can use coconuts?

Perhaps shards of coconuts?

Okay, whose ass can use shards?

Man, back in the day people must have had really unhappy asses.

I do remember hearing something about corncobs and the Pilgrims ...

Okay, whose ass can use shards?

Maybe you'd use the meat of the coconut? And then the milk to wash up? I dunno.

Dammit, this is going to be bugging me all day now.

I know. You'd find someone else and say, "I'll give you this coconut if you wipe my ass for me."

I've always thought personal hygiene issues like that would be a way bigger barrier to enjoying life in some romanticized former era than missing things like the internet or modern transportation.

I do remember hearing something about corncobs and the Pilgrims ...

When I was about four or five, I found a novelty "corncob with an electrical cord" in the bathroom of a relative's house. It freaked me out.