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June 24, 2008
The Secret Lives of Toothbrushes
There is a four-slot toothbrush holder in our medicine cabinet. The four slots, in a row, are typically filled as such: John, John's razor, empty, and me (Kate's toothbrush doesn't fit, so it hangs out on the shelf above). Every now and then I open up the cabinet and, in an unexpected sense of embarrassment or claustrophobia, find John's toothbrush on the wrong side of the razor, in the normally empty spot, bristles facing mine. I can never decide if the confrontation is hostile or friendly, but it somehow always makes me feel very uncomfortable. Part of me is screaming "give me some breathing room, will you!" Part of me is quiet and self-conscious.
And then I remember that it is only a toothbrush. I close the cabinet and see myself in the mirror. I say out loud, "you are so weird."
Posted by libbystokes at 11:42 PM | Comments (3)