A toothbrush named Glen

I just bought a new toothbrush. It's like a Cadillac for my gums. I could hardly stop brushing, it felt that good. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that I broke my rule and paid over a dollar and half for it. Maybe it's because my last one bore a closeresemblancece to a spoon than a toothbrush. Maybe it's because it is pink.

I thought only a new dress or a concert could make me feel so good. But here I sit, beaming because of my toothbrush. Nearly wishing it was in my mouth right now. If she were sparkley, I'd name her Glenda. But minus the sparkle, she's just Glen.

I think I have to write about things like Glen, because I forget how little things can be just as pleasing and just as important for my self esteem as pay raises and surprise hundred dollar checks and winks across a room. I need to successfully cook a meal. I need to wear turquoise on a Saturday. I need to feel good about my toothbrush.

Shoot. Maybe next week I'll buy socks. Why do they package socks and cotton underwear in re-sealable packages, anyway?