This is the review where I finally reach rock bottom and go somewhere we all hoped I would never go.
Greencane Paper Kitchen Towels
I used a few sheets to make the picture on the TV at least partially visible and was seriously impressed that it wasn’t going to involve me chasing a ton of statically charged fluff around the screen.
What got the biggest nods of approval however was the softness of the Greencane Paper Kitchen Towels. Most eco products seem to be made with 90% recycled barbed wire and 10% virtue but these were soft enough that I didn’t think twice about using them to remove the remains of dinner from the children’s various body parts.
Which turned out to be fortuitous.
As with all my reviews, this one happened when Keith went out one Saturday and left me in charge of the homestead. He was off talking about saving marine mammals and I was at home, sat at the dining table with Miss Olive and Esme, creating some pretty impressive post modern art.
Out of nowhere, Miss Olive turned to me, fixed me with a cheeky grin and filled her nappy in spectacular fashion.
For the sake of form I thought I ought to ask her whether she had pooped, which was an error on my part because it achieved nothing but to inspire her to scramble down from the table and vanish down the corridor, cackling.
After I had made sure Esme wasn’t about to strike out into some wall decorating, I went to arm myself wth essential butt changing equipment.
It’s a short list:
In this case, however, not short enough because it turned out that Keith had forgotten to buy baby wipes; something which I had completely failed to notice before I was faced with rapidly drying toddler poop.
It was about this time I muttered a hope that Keith might be eaten by the next whale he tried to refloat.
If you think that is unkind, let me just tell you that Miss Olive’s family nickname is Mimky Moo. This is not because she has luscious silky hair (although she does) it is because she was born with the bowels of a middle aged man who survives on a diet of real ale and steak.
I briefly considered whether I could pretend ignorance of the poop situation but my eyeballs were already beginning to water.
There was literally nothing for it but to make do and mend. I took four sheets of Greencane Paper Kitchen Towels and ran them under the tap to dampen them.As advertised on the front of the packet, they were indeed “thirsty” and seemed to hold a surprising amount of water which I figured would only help their poop removing capabilities.Armed with my makeshift wipes and a fresh nappy I wrangled a still cackling Miss Olive onto the floor and began the time honoured tradition of The Dance of The Nappy Change. As I had feared, the poop was already starting the process of bonding with her skin, which did not please me. That said, when I started scrubbing at her butt, the half gallon of water that had previously been trapped in the thirsty kitchen towels started to flow down her butt crack, which didn’t please Miss Olive. All round, neither of us was very happy at that point.If I have one tiny criticism of these Kitchen Towels it is that shortly into my cleaning efforts the paper did start to break down. I can’t be too harsh about that, I’m pretty sure that when the good folk of Greencane Paper were designing their product, this was not one of the things they predicted it would need to achieve.
Well you can hold your heads up, Greencane Paper, because despite the disconcerting feeling of having her backside scrubbed with bobbly sheets of you kitchen towel while rivulets of water ran into places no toddler should have to suffer them, Miss Olive would like you to know she thinks your kitchen towels rock.
So do I as it happens, and I love that once again I get to say that about an innovative Kiwi business who have spent the last six years developing a product that they feel passionate about. I find it inspiring to have the chance to speak about a brand who are challenging the received wisdom of their industry and finding a way to make modern convenience sustainable.Probably best not to break into the baby wipe sector just yet though.
Munch Reviewer, Tasha Batsford