Over the years (and especially lately, I don’t know why), I’ve had many close calls. There have been so very many times I have lost control of a hair band and almost dropped it in the toilet, or fumbled the cap to the toothpaste and nearly dropped it in the toilet, but I’ve always been lucky. Until today. Today, my comb, my wonderful, colorful wide-toothed* comb landed squarely (and splashily) in the toilet. I was ready to toss it, but John is more sentimental than I am. He pointed out that I’ve had that comb as long as he’s known me. He’s right – this comb is older than our relationship. I can’t let it go that easily, so I’m boiling it clean right now.
Hang on, little comb! I won’t abandon you!
*Wide-tooth or wide-toothed? Google results are inconclusive.