Brusha, brusha, brusha

It would be absolutely adorable if he weren’t screaming bloody, snotty, stinking murder any time he is NOT standing on this stool “brushing” his teeth.

Just try and take this tooth brush from me. “All done,” you say? Go ahead and add that cute clap. Oh, and now you turned off the lights? How’s that working for you? This ain’t my first rodeo, momma.

Rinse, please.

You know you love me.

I’ll be in the bathroom if you need me, rinsing Nater’s toothbrush.  Over and over and over and over.

Comments are closed, but if you know who pukes in the movie scene of this post’s title, email me, I’ll give you twenty points and put your name in lights in the sidebar.  See how I make you all email me like that, so I can email you back.  Tricksy.  Also, blogger forced me to learn to use picasa because it won’t upload photos from my computer.  Damn you, blogger! Bonus new watermarks, however.

One Response to Brusha, brusha, brusha
  1. Demand for Dental Assistants
    August 22, 2012 | 7:48 pm

    Hey there! This post could not be written any better! Reading through this post reminds
    me of my previous room mate! He always kept talking about this.

    I will forward this page to him. Pretty sure he will have a
    good read. Thanks for sharing!

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