The Day That Everything Fell

It was a lazy Saturday around here. I went to bed a little early for me for a Friday night; my head hit the pillow at 10pm. I woke up early, well rested and ready to face the laundry and dishes that tend to pile up during the week. Once I got out of bed, I rounded the corner and went into the bathroom. This is an important part of my morning ritual in more ways than one (or two. hee hee). I take a magic pill in the morning. This magic pill is extremely difficult to pry out of its safe little package with my mere mortal finger, so I use a highly specialized tool for such a job. My toothbrush. I use the end to gently push the pill from the package onto my palm. Only people trained in this method should attempt such a task. I should have been trained.

As soon as the pill fell safely into my hand, my TOOTHBRUSH jumped from my grip, did a few gravity-defying turns in front of my face and flung itself directly into the TOILET. THE TOILET. My toothbrush was in the toilet. Not only was my toothbrush in the toilet, I had to extract my toothbrush from the toilet. I quickly built a make-shift extraction device, got the toothbrush out and threw it away.

I went directly into the bedroom because I couldn't live another moment without telling Eddie what had happened. When he heard me tell the story, it would be instantly funny. It was.

About 20 minutes later, I was concentrating on a task when I hear, "Oh No!" coming from the bathroom.

I ran to the bathroom door to see my half-naked husband getting ready to shower. He was holding something in a towel, cringing and smiling at the same time.

"I dropped it."


"I dropped it in the toilet."

"WHAT did you drop in the toilet?"

"The manual for the D50."

Our toilet is the center of the gravity. Beware.


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