I dragged myself out of bed this morning around 4:30, after sparring with the mind monsters, and bobbled my way into the bathroom. With eyes half open, I reached for my toothbrush, squeezed the toothpaste on, and began the familiar process. Brush, bush, brush.......and then..........wait.......wait.........wait a doggone minute. Something feels different; what could it be? Oh, my! The bristles on my toothbrush feel different, worn down, and I realize that I need a new toothbrush.
How long are theses things suppose to last? I've had this one about two and a half months, and it feels like I've been scrubbing the toilet with it. My toothbrush usually last longer than that. Then, like a flash, it smote me in the brainpan. *Drum Roll, Please!* I look over at the toothbrush holder, and low and behold, there stands my very own toothbrush. That's right, Herman's is blue and mine is red. The red one sat there staring back at me. Yuck! I can't think of a moral to this story except to make sure your eyes are wide open when you reach for your toothbrush.
I need a cup of coffee.
1 comment:
bekah......LOL Funny, that's exactly what he said.
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