I started a new schedule at work that requires me to go to bed the earliest I ever have (9 PM) in order to be awake and alert in time. After the first long day, I was in bed at 7 PM ready to call it a night. Warren thoughtfully reminded me that I would hate myself if I didn’t brush my teeth before going to bed. So I stumbled to the bathroom and grappled for the toothpaste. Despite my bleariness, I managed to locate it (miracle). But when I went to close the medicine cabinet door, the toothpaste revolted. It leaped out of my grasp and sailed straight into the toilet.
Now, I am no stranger to Things Falling Into The Toilet. I have knocked Warren’s toothbrush into the toilet on several occasions. In fact, the first time I fished it out, I put it back in the cabinet without telling Warren about its misfortune. That’s how great a wife I am. But don’t worry, I remembered to tell him before he brushed his teeth that day. (Just in time.)
There was also the historic moment when I accidentally flushed a bottle of lotion down the toilet. That one took a plumber a few hours of manhandling every pipe in the house to fix (though afterwards, our toilet never properly flushed so we had to go across the street to a local church. At night it was like going to an outhouse, albeit one that had indoor plumbing. Luckily it was spring so the weather was warm and we were only in that house for another three weeks).
Anyway, this time I fished the toothpaste out of the toilet and tossed it in the trash. Sadly it was our last tube so I had to resort to travel –size. Since I’m a Very Smart Person, I keep a couple stashed away for purposes just like this. I patted myself on the back as I squeezed some toothpaste out of the mini tube. I started brushing like normal but quickly realized that something was not right. No, not right at all. With a heavy heart, I turned the mini tube over and read, to my horror: CVS Cortisone Cream.
I had a flashback of the giant mosquito bites from a few months ago, the enormous evil ones that caused my leg to swell to such sausage-like proportions that I could only weep and pray for death. Some guru (I’m talking to you, Google) recommended that I use cortisone cream to soothe the bites. (It didn’t work but I am now besties with Benadryl.) Once the reality of the situation set in, I gagged and spit into the sink. Have you ever tried to get rid of the most awful taste in your mouth only to realize that it made your gums and tongue numb (why didn’t that numbness work on the bug bites? Why!?) and no amount of gargling, Altoids, or other things could get the taste out? It’s not pretty. So, in short, learn from my mistakes, friends: ALWAYS CHECK THE LABELS.
And please, please tell me I am not alone. What household items have you knocked into the toilet??
