Tuesday, March 14, 2006

C'est La Vie

I don't know when it happened exactly, but at some point toothbrushes became too fat to fit into the holes of the toothbrush holder in our bathroom. Now, instead sitting upright, pert and ready for action, our Rubenesque toothbrushes lounge around on their sides atop their putative "holder," making a mockery of all notions of rationality in the free market economy. Seriously, if one cannot count on toothbrush manufacturers and toothbrush holder manufacturers to agree upon a diameter and stick to it, what can one count on? "Do we need," I wondered, "a regulatory body for the toothbrush industry?"

And yet I've grown to like my newly languorous toothbrush. There's something downright European about its lifestyle. A few minutes of work every day, and then hours spent in quiet relaxation next to what I've come to think of as his wife. Actually, wife might be a little too constricting for him, a little too traditional. Is that his mistress? His live-in girlfriend? Who can say, really? They come to the market once a week and are always quite pleasant, so who cares? They're not hurting anyone, and clearly they make each other happy. I hear they met in Venice, on holiday, but there is a rumor going around that they're second cousins. Oh, tongues will wag - they always do - but what is that compared to love, no?

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