I was standing in the bathroom absorbed in my thoughts, waiting for Baby Girl to finish on the potty so I could brush her teeth.
Baby Girl was taking a long time turning on the water to wash her hands. My awareness of this cracked my shell of thought. My eyes unglazed and I looked at her to find her toothbrush clasped in her plump, unwashed hand.
As I dealt with my reaction to the grossness of the sight, gasping words like “germs” and “yeugh” she whipped out the scornful tone she’s been toying with lately and said “mom, dixie cups kill germs”
If only we had a dixie cup that could save that toothbrush from it’s fate in the trashcan.


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