Dear Kleenex,

Do you even use your own tissues? I think not; if you did use your own product, surely you would have noticed that when the box is more than halfway empty the tissues suddenly fall to the bottom, compelling those plagued by a runny nose to frantically root about in the depths of the family size box. That moment, when you can feel the mucus making its way toward your upper lip, that is not the right time to search for the edge of the next tissue.

For those of us with adult-sized hands, the Kleenex design flaw is doubly bothersome. The plastic envelope opening, the one that is supposed to keep the next tissue at the ready, is not sized for an entire hand. So while you are feeling around for the 2 millimeter edge of the next origami-folded tissue, the box becomes attached to your hand like a toddler at the doctor’s office.

I don’t want to point any fingers, but you are entirely responsible for my marital harmony. When I am unable to find a tissue to stem the nocturnal flow of snot, I am forced to either wake my husband, usually by flailing about with a Kleenex box stuck on my the end of my arm, or just use his pillowcase. I am sure you understand my delicate situation.

I am sure, Kleenex, that you are asking yourselves, why doesn’t she just buy Puffs? Well, I do, when given the chance. The problem is that my elderly father-in-law insists on providing all of our paper products. I simply cannot turn away tissues just because of poor design. I am a frugal woman, Kleenex, and I implore you to do whatever it takes to resolve this situation. I was planning to send you a cross section of a competitors’ tissue box, but I ran out of Claritin, and it is rag weed season. I am confident that you will consider your many options: corporate spies, research into more effective folding techniques, anti-gravity force fields on the inside of each box. The answer is out there, if you apply yourselves.

Kim Murphy-Kovalick