One.

That’s the amount of hairbrushes circulating through my home at the moment. We used to have three but they disappear like my children when I ask “Who’s going to unload the dishwasher?” Lucky for me the remaining brush is from Aveda and happens to be my favorite.

So this morning when I caught Nathanael using it to brush Walter, the hobo-looking dog, I was just a bit upset. It makes me wonder if he has ever brushed Walter’s teeth with my toothbrush or let Walter snap a few photos with my camera.

I felt violated.

So I complained to Darren, hoping he would deliver a sentence worthy of the crime, but instead Darren started singing this song from the days when our children were younger:

And that made me laugh and forget I was mad.

Reason #12 that marriage is good.

For the benefit of my future daughters-in-law, I’ve been trying to teach my five boys how to offer up a decent apology when feelings get hurt or injustices are inflicted. Relationships are made or destroyed by the ability or inability to admit a wrong and properly make amends. Bert and Ernie know how to do it. So did Cagney and Lacey. For some reason my boys cannot:

• “I’m sorry (pause) but you made me do it.”
• “Gosh, you freaking idiot. I’M SORRY!!”
• “I’m sorry already. Now shut up!“

Unless “I’m sorry” is followed by “How can I make it better?”, it doesn’t count. I cannot make someone be sorry for ruining someone else’s prized DVD player and I can’t force anyone into repentance for comparing someone’s teenage beard with that of Shaggy from Scooby Doo. In. Front. Of. Girls. At. School.

There are going to be five unmarried men living in my basement forever because no woman is going to put up with “What’s your problem? Like. I didn’t mean to do it so why should I say I’m sorry?“

My children have been known to befriend many things in their young lives but this has to be the most inanimate of all.

Meet Bob the Balloon. Bob was born Saturday morning after Nathanael breathed life into him right before a birthday party. Bob has a two day life expectancy but in that short time much love and time has been invested in him. Bob’s likes are potato chip grease fingerprints, the scent of permanent markers and spooning in the middle of the night. His dislikes are flames, knives and gravity.

Nathanael and Bob are best friends forever.

Or until Monday at the latest.

Today I couldn’t resist. In my weakened infomercial state, I picked up the phone and dialed the 800 number on the screen.

“Thank you for calling Bare Minerals. May I have your zip code please?”

I told her my five digit number.

“Okay! I have you in Podunk, is that correct?”

“Opps. Nope. I live in Hickville. Do you want me to repeat the number for you?”

“Yes, Ma’am. I apologize. This is my second day on the job and I’m trying to get adjusted to the computer software.
Go ahead with the number.”

I repeated the number slowly, pausing briefly between each number so that the sound would have time to travel through the phone line.

“There we go. You live in Redneckville, correct?”

“Uh…we’re getting closer but it’s Hickville”

“Oh I am so sorry!” she apologized. “I can’t seem to get this right but you should know that I’m really cute and really nice.”

(silence)

“Do you think it would be possible for me to speak with someone really ugly and really mean?” I teased.

“Absolutely! Please hold and I’ll get my supervisor.”