Toothbrush Bliss

I got home late last night after a great evening out with my SIL, and my little family was already asleep. I knew this would be the case as Zoe goes to bed at 8, and M had been up since 4:30 a.m. eastern. So I crept in and took off my jewelry and tiptoed to the bathroom, closing the door before turning on the light so as not to wake him.

Once the light was on, I went to the sink to get ready for bed (the de-beautification process, as M calls it), and I got a tiny little charge when I saw this:

Yeah, okay. So it's a coupla toothbrushes. Big deal, right? Wrong.

When M is gone, his toothbrush is gone. Naturally. The boy is committed to his dental hygiene both at home and on the road. And so my brush hangs out there, above the sink, by itself. It looks lonesome and pitiful. Just like I stay on my side of the bed when he's gone, my brush stays on its side of the holder, leaving the space open for the other to return. It's a simple, daily reminder that there's only one person currently using this bathroom. There's only one person here, and someone is absent. I see the space where his toothbrush goes, and it makes me miss him even more. Because there are supposed to be two there.

Because I am so deeply committed to my marriage and all the work it entails, because I am so utterly, helplessly still in love with my husband, all it takes is seeing the return of his toothbrush to make me happy. In the dead of night, by myself in the bathroom, I grinned like an idiot. I couldn't wait to finish so I could go climb into bed and snuggle up next to him and listen to him breathe. Which is exactly what I did.

Side-by-side, our toothbrushes reunited in the bathroom. Side-by-side, again, us. Life is good.

(Just 'cause I know you're wondering...mine is green and his is blue.)