I've got the "Someone Used My Toothbrush" Blues...

Now, I don't 'officially' live at home any more. But I visit often. I'm a glutton for punishment that way.

To make my travels easier, I leave certain article at home for my visits. Jammies, underwear, toothbrush... stuff like that.

So tonight, upon my arrival at the ranch, I decided, like most hygenic people do, to brush my teeth.

My toothbrush looked like something someone tried to clean the gunk off the bottom of their barn boots with. The bristles have been spread out, as though rigorous brishing had been going on with it. I do NOT brush rigorously. I have very sensitive, lady-like gums that can not handle rough treatment.

I was rather perplexed.

The tothbrush situation in my family's house is an odd one. We have random people spending the night and needing toothbrushes. I suppose it is easy to mix up whose is whose, on account of there being only so many colors in the rainbow. For example, Berry Queen spent the night here a few weeks ago, and the toothbrush that was given to her is still in the cupboard. My mother gets a new toothbrush every few weeks and has a hard time remembering to throw out the old one. Sigh.

So I looked aorund the house, but there seemed to be a shortage of new toothbrushes. Dammit. My mother came to help me solve the problem.

There was no solution.

Well, there was one.

She has a pink toothbrush that she's only used... a 'few' times, whatever that means.

What's a girl to do?

The only logical step followed.

I washed it with hot lemony fresh hand soap. I brushed my teeth. And I headed for the case of beer that awaited me in the beer room.

And as the alcohol mixed it's way into my veins with a conglomoration of nicotine and prescription drugs, all seemed to become right with the world.

Toonses