The laminated edge on the bathroom cabinet had come loose and last night I put a drop of super strong glue on it to fix it and left the tube on the shelf.
This morning, waking up early in the dark, I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash. By mistake in my hurry I picked up the wrong tube and put glue on my toothbrush.
Immediately, my toothbrush got stuck solid to my teeth!
No matter how much I tried I could not budge it. The bristles on the toothbrush and my teeth had become one. United in marriage until death do them part.
No matter how much I tried to pull, push, or move the brush left or right; it just did not move. It remained stuck to my teeth and protruding from my mouth.
In a panic I yelled for “hlp” but the vowels in my words were stuck to my teeth and would not come out, since you normally require your lips to pronounce your syllables and vowels, and my lips were held permanently open by the protruding toothbrush.
I picked up the tube and read: “Sticks anything to anything permanently regardless of conditions. Works instantly on wet and dry surfaces just as effectively.”
Great!
There are quite a few words here which I don’t like at all. “Anything … permanently … instantly … and wet.”
What am I to do now?
I can hardly go to work with a toothbrush sticking out of my mouth.
I could poke someone’s eye out standing on the crowded bus. That would make an interesting injury compensation claim.
“I hurt my eye!”
“How did you do it?”
“Someone with a toothbrush out of his mouth poked me in the eye on a crowded bus!”
The Insurance people would never believe it.
And what if as I walked down the street a bird happened to perch on my toothbrush?
What do I do then? Do I shoo it away or leave it there? What if it pooed all over my shirt whilst perched there?
My imagination did somersaults somewhere within my brain whilst the toothbrush remained stuck there anticipating my next move.
What if I rinsed it with soapy water? Soap tastes awful and is ineffective. How about bubble bath liquid? Tastes just as bad. Shower gel? Shampoo? Aftershave lotion? None seem to work.
I look in the mirror and in desperation I get an idea.
What if I wedged the toothbrush in the bathroom cabinet’s door and pulled back sharply? One strong hard pull back with my head, whilst holding the door in position with both hands should do it.
Well … nearly.
The toothbrush handle broke and all I have left in my mouth is the end bit with the bristles. Still stuck fast to my teeth and refusing to consider divorce.
I can now pull my upper lip down slowly and stretch it over the toothbrush end to cover it from view. It looks as if I have a thick lip as happens when you’re punched by a boxer.
I eventually go to the dentist who somehow manages to free me from my ever so clingy toothbrush.
