We spent the night at my parent’s house last week. Since it was for only one night, my packing was light and a little disheveled; I just threw things into a bag. Apparently, I was just as disorganized when packing our things for our return home. I’d left my toiletries bag at their house. No biggy! The children had spare toothbrushes at home, which I suggested they use. This didn’t set too well with Trooper who informed me that the forgotten toothbrush was his favorite and we would never get it again (because we were moving).

After a few minutes of drama, I assured him that we would see Gram and Granddaddy before we left and that they would definitely bring his toothbrush when they came to visit. It’s funny. I had to hunt for his “favorite” toothbrush and found it covered in his drawer along with his other “favorite” toothbrushes. I guess the one I left was his “favoritzes” (I like making up words.) of them all. We got teeth brushed and all of the little people were finally put to bed.

As I stood in front of my vanity mirror reflecting on how wonderful it was to have children despite the drama moments, I suddenly realized that not only were their toothbrushes in my toiletries bag, but so was mine. Now, we had a problem! That toothbrush wasn’t my “favorite one,” it was my only one. I had no spare one that I could think of and I felt another episode of drama coming on with me as the Oscar performing star.

Once I told my husband the PROBLEM, he immediately offered me his toothbrush. Even before he offered, he knew my response. You see, I have a rule. I don’t share my toothbrush and I don’t use anybody else’s. If I had to do the stranded on an island with two people and the one toothbrush thing, then I would have to use my fingers or some tree bark. No tree, then sand would do and I would just stay clear of the yellow sand.

Forget the fact that we kiss like we’re checking each other for cavities, tongue and all, his toothbrush isn’t going inside of my mouth. I don’t know how I became like this, but it just ain’t happening.

The nearest anywhere to buy a toothbrush was at least 30 minutes away. It was late and I wasn’t up for the drive. Although my teeth had that “we need to be brushed” feel when I ran my tongue over them, they were going to have to wait until the morning.

I thanked my husband kindly, gave him a closed mouth, side lip kiss, and proceeded to bed.

Do you have a personal item that, despite all reasonable circumstances, you would prefer not refuse to share?