Just another humiliation.

About three months ago I moved from the city that I love, to a distant suburb/rural area. At my new home, we have both a well and septic tank. I was initially a bit put off by the thought of having a septic tank. But, after speaking with a few people, I came to realize it wasn't really a big deal to have a giant tank of crap buried somewhere in your backyard. After all, in the city you are surrounded by crap. If you are lucky, you might even pass someone on the street who is taking a crap. And they don't even bother to take the time to bury it. So, a giant hidden tank wouldn't be so bad.
About a month after moving in, we had our first flood in the basement. It turned out that this flood was caused by the septic tank getting backed up. We called the septic tank gurus who pumped out the tank and all was well.
A week later, the flooding began again. We called the folks from the septic repair again and this time they snaked a camera through the pipe from the house to the crap tank to diagnose the problem. It turned out that the problem was that the pipe was clogged with "baby wipes". Mind you, I don't have a baby. But, I do have a very sensitive bottom. And, they are not baby wipes -- they are adult wipes! And, the package says they are safe for septic tanks -- thank you very much!
Regardless, I was humiliated as this was explained to my husband and noted on the bill. Yes, that's right, our two thousand dollar repair bill contained a notation about the baby wipes. This was all my fault. Me and my overly sensitive bottom. But, at least now it was fixed. And, with the assurance that this new repair would make using wipes acceptable again, I got back to wipin'.
Now, this morning, the day before Thanksgiving, the day before company is coming to stay for the weekend, it seems we have another back up. I mentioned to my husband that I was back on the wipes. I think he would have rather heard that I started smoking crack. The septic tank people are on thier way back out. No doubt they will shake their heads in disbelief as they clear another clog.
Can I help it if I am sensitive and extremely clean? Is it possible that I am way more regular than I realize? Either way, it seems clear that I am going to be scapegoated for this one too. Maybe I will be lucky and they will find one of my husband's shoes in there. Maybe I will go shove a shoe in there now.