toothbrush

Could some marketing genius please invent a toothbrush with a high-tech head but a low-tech, non-ergonomic, straight handle that would fit into one of those 1970’s toothbrush holder wall fixtures, as pictured above? I hate to see them leaning uncomfortably against the tile like a couple of sullen eighth-graders dreading third period. How nice it would be if they could just rest snugly in their holder. We folks who are (however unwillingly) living in the Me Decade will thank you, at least until we get around to renovating the bathroom. (And would you check out that wallpaper? A redo is badly needed.)

By the way, can you guess which toothbrush is mine and which is Husband’s? That’s right: mine is pink, and it’s not just because I’m such a girly girl. I discovered a long time ago that if I chose any other color for my toothbrush, he would forget which color was his and use mine by mistake. Pink evidently screams “lady” to him, though, and he therefore always concludes that his is the other one. I blame the patriarchy.