You know that moment at the end of the day when you’re brushing your teeth?
That moment happens almost every day (if you’re conscientious about brushing your teeth; I plan to keep my teeth until I’m 98 so I’m diligent like that). It’s usually a throwaway moment. Routine. Boring. I’d rather be in bed already.
The other night, my Beloved bumped hips with me while we both were brushing our (own) teeth. I looked at him in the bathroom mirror. And I bumped back. He smiled through Crest foam. And I smiled. It was like baby boomers’ Night at the Disco to the hum of electric toothbrushes instead of Electric Slide.
We were playing.
I laughed, keeping my chin up to keep the toothpaste in. That otherwise useless moment was fun.
Then I crawled into bed with him (already warm thanks to our heated mattress pad) and scratched his back.
I went to bed alone a lot in my first marriage.
But I almost never go to bed alone now. My Beloved and I retire together nearly every night.
It’s bliss falling asleep next to the man who makes tooth brushing fun.
