So what was the lie?
Yesterday my husband posted 20 things you might not know about me, plus one that’s a damn lie. There were a lot of fun guesses in the comments regarding which of the 21 statements about me was untrue. Today I will reveal the answer. But first I will tell you a story.
Back in the days when we were engaged and living in different cities, I had driven to Cleveland from Columbus to spend the weekend with him. Toward the end of the evening, I walked into his bathroom, grabbed the toothbrush that I kept at his apartment, applied toothpaste, and started to brush my teeth.
Because I have trouble standing still sometimes, I walked into the living room while still brushing. His eyes opened. His expression, if I had to describe it, was somewhere between “hand in the cookie jar” and “socked in the balls.”
“Is that your toothbrush,” he asked.
For future reference, this is a really stupid question. Any men out there who are trying to get a woman to not break off an engagement should probably skip it, unless that woman is a saint. Is it my toothbrush? No, I found it in the dumpster outside. Wondered how it would taste. Thanks for asking.
“Yes,” I said. “Why?”
“I’ll tell you later.”
This still cracks me up. “I’ll tell you later.” Like, “I’ve got some news about that thing you’re rubbing around the inside of your mouth. But hey, I don’t want to interrupt. Please. Finish.”
At the time I wasn’t laughing. I walked to the bathroom, spit into the sink, and threw my toothbrush into the garbage. I walked back and asked him what had happened.
“I needed it.”
If I can go off on a tangent here, and we all know that I can, I’m not the only person who remembers those “Needs vs. Wants” worksheets that we did in second grade, am I? You know, like “I need food and water and shelter. I may want a two-story treehouse with electricity and a flushing toilet, but I could probably live without it, all other things being equal.” So when he said he needed it, I wondered what basic human function my toothbrush had made possible for him. I was not at all prepared for his answer.
“I needed it to wash my golf clubs.”
You know that color that’s not quite red and not quite purple? Everything in the room turned that color for a moment. OK, an hour. Two, tops. I was stunned.
During the week, he had mixed a bucketful of hot water and Tide (Tide!) and repeatedly dipped my toothbrush into it and scrubbed the filth from his golf clubs. Then he put the toothbrush back in the holder.
I still don’t comprehend the thought process. However, in the years since then, he has put up with a lot of my boneheaded moves, and if I once stood in a living room with Tide breath wondering what the hell I’d gotten myself into, I can’t say that question has occurred to me very often since.
As you can see, #5 was the lie. I did not use his toothbrush; he used mine. He was a helluva good sport to give me such a fun lie to explain too. Congratulations to Tanya and DragonKat, who guessed correctly, and to Jill (the relative) for almost getting it!
Ya know, I held my breath as I read this because I was so afraid you were going to say he cleaned the toilet with it. You know, that hard-to-reach area under the rim? So at least he had that going for him. But holy crap! You had Tide breath!
This was a great post. Nicely done, Mr. R.
Oh. My. Goodness.
Ew.
What in the world was he thinking?? I hope he at least rinsed it out well before putting back in the holder!
hahahaha…you two were meant for each other. Did he ever give you a reason for using your toothbrush to clean his clubs? And then to just put it back in the holder?
Ew! I would not want to be brushing my teeth with a toothbrush that experienced Tide. Seventh Generation, maybe. But, your husband is right on one thing, how great toothbrushes are for cleaning things. I always keep old toothbrushes around for that very purpose.
That makes for a really good (and well-told) story. The part I love about this is how there’s clearly that IMMEDIATE need that swept away any rational thought. Thoughts that might have occurred such as, would a toothbrush for cleaning be at the sink>? In a holder for toothbrushes? NO, 99% chance it would be under the sink, or with other cleaning goods, or in a box. Anywhere but where it would be used for dental hygiene. Is this a toothbrush that belongs to me? No. Hmmmm…I *probably* shouldn’t use it for cleaning then. The thin that I love? He owned up to it immediately. That is the sign of a good egg.
I would ask what I win for guessing correctly, but I’m worried the answer would be a customized toothbrush of my own.
This was hilarious! Lol. I would have killed my husband if he did that. What was he thinking? He should have thrown it away.
This was an awesome post.
Great story!!
[...] why I haven’t even begun to comment on my friend Two Hands and a Roadmap’s post “So What Was the Lie” which is the most sordid tale of betrayal and filth since Tiger [...]
[...] guest post by Mr. R is a followup to the story of how he once used my toothbrush to clean his golf clubs and didn’t tell me until I… He has finally agreed to tell the world how this happened. In spite of my jokes, he is a really [...]