This isn't so much a blog entry as it is a desperate cry for help...and a toothbrush.

Two weeks ago, Las Vegas...

James: I think I left my toothbrush at home.
Me: That sucks.
James: So I used yours.
Me: Are you serious?
James: Yes.
Me: That's really gross. Really.
James: I'm going to use it tomorrow, too. Just so you know.
Me: Awesome.


The next day, in Las Vegas...

James: Are you sick?
Me: No, why?
James: I thought I heard you getting sick in the bathroom.
Me: No...I was just gagging while I was brushing my teeth with my own toothbrush that you defiled with your mouth.
James: Am I crazy, or having we been making out for over 7 years now?
Me: I know, but...you're gross.

One week ago, at home...

Me: I think I left my toothbrush in Vegas.
James: That sucks.
Me: So I used yours.
James: Are you serious?
Me: Yes.
James: OK.

Last night, our bathroom...

James: I think it's time for you to get your own toothbrush.
Me: I know. This is so gross.
James: So why don't you just go ahead and get your own toothbrush?
Me: Because my toothbrush is fancy and I don't have $70.00 lying around to replace it.
James: You know you can buy a cheap toothbrush, right?
Me: That's probably the stupidest thing I ever heard in my life. Why would I do that?
James: Because you need to stop using mine.
Me: Yeah, but you can't replace the toothbrush of the gods with cheap plastic. They'll smite you and your teeth will turn green. It's like lying in church.

(Sonicare = toothbrush of the gods. And me.)


The next morning, our bathroom...

Me: James! Where's the toothbrush?

Me: James? Hello?

Me: Toothbrush?

Me: Dang.


P.S. Speaking of missing things ...

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