My brother and I are very close, and I love him more than I could ever say. In fact, I am constantly amazed that not only did we survive our childhood, but that we came out of it friends at all. We talk fairly frequently, and maintain pretty much a daily level of contact through emails, instant messaging and phone texting. One of the things I really enjoy about him is that he's a good kind of weird, and somewhat random, like me.
In amongst our texting last year, I received one of these random messages from him that simply said, "I'm sorry about your toothbrush."
My message back, "Uhh..... my toothbrush?"
His reply, "Yeah, when we were kids, I used to rub your toothbrush in the soap all the time, so I'm sorry."
This, of course, launched a great deal of laughter in me, as I have learned to appreciate the humor in all the big brother tricks he played on me when we were young. It's funny, I don't remember my toothbrush tasting soapy, nor did it ever produce an unwelcome amount of suds in my mouth. Does that mean no harm, no foul? I suppose I shall ponder farther.
I have labeled this post, "Orange Pop and Toothbrush Soap". I will use this title repeatedly as I remember different things about growing up. I don't expect to accomplish much out of it, but perhaps, if nothing more, it will create a smile on the faces of the readers.
I love you, Brada-mon!
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