… something to write home about.

This morning I woke around 6:30 AM and since it was earlier than usual (thank you jet lag!) I was ready to go around 7:30 AM. I strolled into the bathroom and started brushing my teeth when, much to my surprise, I tasted soap.

“Wha –?”

I pulled my toothbrush out of my mouth and looked closely at the bristles. They were clean with no sign of any left over toothpaste dried at the base or in between the bristles, other than the fresh and now bubbly residue from my recent excursion. Still only curious, I looked around the sink to notice, now, the bottle of bubble bath right next to my toothpaste tube and the little mound of now dried bubbles under where my toothbrush would have been.

Yes, you guessed it - upon deep and intensive interrogation, the Boy ‘fessed up that he needed to scrub something and it was handy. Upon this revelation, we had a impassioned and intense discussion about what was the appropriate uses he could use my toothbrush for. Barring an invasion of mutant lizards from another planet, my toothbrush is now officially off limits.

No, I don’t know what he washed with my toothbrush.

I’m not sure I want to.