Last night, as I was getting ready for bed I grabbed the toothpaste out of the toothpaste cup. No, we don't keep a cup of toothpaste by the bathroom sink, it's a plastic cup that holds the toothpaste tube and two toothbrushes. I don't even know if it was specifically designed for this purpose, but when I was shopping for such an appliance I remember being shocked that all of the toothpaste cups were glass. Oh, no no no. Me + glass in a bathroom is simply a bet made by the universe about how quickly said glass is going to shatter across the bathroom tile and how horrifically I'm going to injure myself.
I'm on to you, universe. Plastic it is.
I grabbed the toothpaste tube and because I have the natural grace of a hippo in tights, I knocked one of the toothbrushes out of the cup and sent it flying. It sailed through the air like an injured bird set free, then crashed-landed behind the toilet. Behind the toilet, which you mean to clean all of the time but you don't because it's all the way back there and whatever kind of guest reaches behind your toilet is the kind of guest that earns that fistful of dirty cobwebs.
I took at deep breath and looked at the toothpaste cup.
I knew that I could retrieve Will's toothbrush from the No-Man's-Land it had been banished to, clean it off, and he'd never know the difference. It was 11:32 on a Sunday night, too late to go shopping for toothbrushes, especially considering I had already changed into my sleeping bra.
But if I told him, he was going to be annoyed. Would he think I had done it on purpose? Probably not, I thought, but what if he thought that there was a Sophie's Choice where I only had a split-second to decide which toothbrush to save and I selfishly saved my own?
It was time to figure out the kind of person I was. The kind of marriage we had. Was it based on a foundation of trust, decency, and being yelled at? Or on a cushy bed of lies where your husband's dental hygiene includes whatever lives behind the toilet?
Will, I dropped your toothbrush behind the toilet!
I heard a sigh.
That's okay, he said, I'm sure that I have a travel toothbrush in my gym bag.
And that's when I remembered my saving roll: always marry someone much nicer than you.
This entire blog post reminded me of Will & my short-lived project, Be the Marriage (the first incarnation!) where we would pick a subject each week and talk at length about it, then editing it together without knowing what the other one said. Here's the second episode, from May 2007. Enjoy.