Either there is a bird in Austin that managed to swallow a tube of toothpaste, or a managed to leave for work this morning with a glob of toothpaste on my head. I don’t know why I happened to be touching the back top of my head but I was lucky to discover it and wipe it off early this morning before a coworker endured the conflict of staring at it and having to decide whether to tell me or not, and exactly what to say, “Excuse me, you have something bird-poopish on the back of your head”.
How in the world could I have gotten it? I don’t remember giving any rabid-looking but minty-smelling kid a shoulder ride. Don’t remember fumbling with my toothbrush and having it hit my head this morning. I don’t think David’s top-bunk had toothpaste I slept in that didn’t come out in the shower (what am I doing sleeping on the top bunk? Don’t ask). I guess it will remain a mystery stored in the annals of fatherhood. At least it wasn’t that new Green Hulk brandless toothpaste Jane let Kristen pick out. Hey, everything has a silver lining.