Can someone please explain to me why there are nine toothbrushes lining my sink?
There are only five of us living here. The cat and dog do not brush their teeth. At least not willingly.
Recently, I saw the cat running through the living room streaked with blue.
I saw Zachary running after the cat.
It only took a minute to figure out where the blue could have come from- the minty fresh smell one never finds coming from a cat gave it away.
Innocent look pops up.
Why is there toothpaste on the cat?
I tried to brush her teeth, he confided. She didn’t like it very much.
Of course, getting him to brush his own teeth takes an act of god. In fact, all of them need reminding not once, not twice, but over and over again to brush their teeth every morning and every night. And yet the toothbrushes around here seem to multiply like rabbits.
I’m not sure I want to know. But from now on? I’m putting mine in the medicine cabinet.