Full (Toothbrush) Disclosure

It's time for me to come clean and tell you the real, full toothbrush story. I mentioned it in passing while I was still medicated, but now I want to do it justice.

I can't even begin to tell you how terrified I was of having 6.5 hours of dental work done at one time. So, of course, I was really happy to take advantage of the drugs. They told me to dress comfortably, so I was wearing some wide-legged elastic waist pants and a loose top. I don't remember anything of the procedure except some foggy memories of, maybe, the last five minutes or so.

When they were all done with me, the dental assistant walked me to the bathroom.

Don't lock the door, sweetie, she told me.

I remember sitting on the toilet and looking around the bathroom. Did I mention how posh my dentist is? Fancy, fancy. Directly across from the toilet is a lovely, walnut burl chest of drawers. Sitting atop the chest is a beautiful vase with a stunning display of individually wrapped, brightly colored toothbrushes. I vaguely remember gazing at the toothbrushes as I urinated while thinking:

Those are so pretty. I wish they were mine.

I was still pretty much high as a kite. The next thing I remember, I'm in the parking lot with Kenny holding my left arm and the dental assistant holding my right. We're very slowly approaching the car. I'm carefully studying the ground as it appears to me to be unstable. We're almost to the car. All of the sudden, a toothbrush fell out of my pant leg onto the parking lot.

The dental assistant looks at me. I look at Kenny. Kenny looks at the dental assistant.

Baby, those are free! You don't have to sneak them. The dental assistant says to me.

Later, after we got home, Kenny found four more in my pants.