Dreaming of a White Toothed Christmas

Last night I was lazing around reading "the best book ever!" when I heard the sound of a small motor. As I surfaced from a deep absorption in the pages where Mistress Marilee grappled with the question of which of her many suitors to favor... I realized the sound originated somewhere quite nearby and my thought process went something like this:

Noise? Is my stomach growling? What is that? Who is brushing their teeth? I am the only person in the house with an electric tooth brush! Who is using my toothbrush? Where is the dog? Hershey!

And, yes, Hershey had my tooth brush and a pink sock in his mouth. Hershey eats his own poop (I did not raise him!) and I will be asking Santa for some new equipment, I think.

On the bright side, Marilee chose well--I am sure she and Timothy Reeves (formerly the indentured servant of her recently deceased brother) will live happily ever after at least until the Indians attack again...

Honestly, I NEVER read that kind of book. For that matter, I NEVER wear pink socks.