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The Case of the Orange Toothbrush

When I finally make it upstairs for bed, my mind dances around with visions of feather pillows, a soft bed, cool air coming in from the window, and a fan to gently lull me to sleep.

Last night, I went upstairs with just this image in my brain and began my ablutions. I went into my bathroom and noticed my toothbrush laying on the sink.

It was wet.....and it wasn't me who used it.

Grabbing my toothbrush, I march downstairs to bother the boys all snuggled into their tent in the family room.

"Who used the orange toothbrush?!" I demanded in my "don't mess with mommy" voice. Bashful hurriedly announced, "Grumpy did." His voice indicated he was glad it wasn't him who had done the dirty deed.

"Why did you use the orange toothbrush?" I asked Grumpy. Of course, I am still talking to the tent and listening for the voice within. "I couldn't find mine," he warily answered. "Do you know this toothbrush is mine?! Eeeuuu!" I exclaimed. "Well, Daddy told me to use it!" he said offensively.

Feeling my jaw drop, I gasped, "What?" and marched down to the basement where Doc holes up. Holding my toothbrush out for him to see, I yelled, "Eeeuu!" in disgust. Of course, the man has no idea what he's done now. "Why did you tell Grumpy he could use my toothbrush?" I demanded in my best fishwifey voice. He looked at it and said, "Oh! I thought that was Happy's toothbrush. He said it was orange."

I think it's time for new toothbrushes.

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