D was home from college last weekend, to observe Yom Kippur with the family. On Friday night, Jim and I had just gone to bed and were watching the news when we heard a commotion in the bathroom. The boys were arguing about a toothbrush. It was unusual to hear them arguing, actually: since D started college last year, they seem to get along so much better now that they each have some space.
Muting the television so we could hear what was being said, we ascertained that J has been using D’s “at-home toothbrush”, thinking it was his. Once the “That’s my toothbrush!” “No, it’s MINE!” part of the argument flowed predictably into the “Great, now I can’t brush my teeth tonight!” part, we called out a suggestion that D look for an extra toothbrush. We typically have a few on hand, stuffed in a drawer or the closet. Of course, on Friday night we were apparently fresh out. (Note to self: buy a few emergency toothbrushes. Or at least some Colgate Wisps, eh Momo?)
Rather than use his finger to brush his teeth, which is totally what I would have done, D just went to bed.
In the morning as we were getting ready to go to the temple for Yom Kippur services, D was lagging behind a bit so I asked J to take Zeus to the drugstore and pick up a toothbrush for his brother.
I said, “Well, even though you didn’t do it on purpose, you did use his toothbrush. Please? I’d appreciate it…”
“Alright,” he said, and off he went.
He returned about twenty minutes later, and greeting the three of us in the family room, he smiled and handed D the bag.
“Here you go!” he said, happily.
D opened the bag to pull out the toothbrush and yelled, “Are you KIDDING ME, J?????”
It was the funniest moment, possibly ever.