Husband rescues toothbrush

My toothbrush fell down the drain.

Most of you are probably thinking how ridiculous that statement is, but it’s true. Our bathroom sink doesn’t have a fancy stopper for the sink, so you can actually look down and see where the pipe veers off into the wall. I’ve brushed my teeth about 75 times in this apartment so far, and never had any trouble — or near drain experiences — until now.

Part of me wants to forget about proper dental care and go to bed. I’m already extremely tired, and reached my grumpy, irritated, sleepy mood already. (This is when Tyler has to wake me up after I have fallen asleep on the couch, and then coax me to go to bed. Otherwise, I wake up on the couch and I’m grumpy for still being there.)

So to solve my toothbrush dilemma, and handle the situation like an adult, I do the only thing I can do:

“Tyler, help me!”

He promptly gets out of bed, and assesses the situation by giggling at my plight. He of course asks how I managed to drop my toothbrush straight down the drain by accident, but I let him know that’s not going to help the task at hand.

He goes to the closet, finds a metal coat hanger, and bends it so he can hook my toothbrush. He solves my problem in less than two minutes. The coat hanger contraption isn’t thrown away because he said we’d probably need it later. I know he’s right, because I’m sure this won’t be the last time I drop something down that sink.

After cleaning my toothbrush, I finally begin brushing my teeth. As I scrub in circular movements across my canines and molars, I think about how I’d probably not be brushing my teeth if Tyler hadn’t rescued my red Oral-B. I know I would have left it there, bought another toothbrush, and figured out how to get it out in a few days.

I’m so happy he puts up with me.