Something happened to my comb a couple of weeks ago. I don’t know what.
One morning it wasn’t there. I didn’t move it. It didn’t fall on the floor. I certainly didn’t throw it away. And nothing has caused me more “discomforture” for an entire minute each day than its disappearance.
The funny thing about combs is that they don’t often pop into your consciousness. You don’t think about them unless you’re about to use them or if you are looking for one. Hell, while you are combing your hair you don’t think about the comb! It is a mindless necessity which is ingrained into everyone’s bathroom routine in the morning.
Maybe I should have been better prepared – had a stand-by comb, a back-up brush. Maybe I should have taken better care of my comb. Maybe I should have chained it to the sink like a bank pen. Maybe I should have appreciated it a bit more and taken better care of it.
But, alas, it is gone ne’er to be found again.
But because my comb went missing, and because I couldn’t remember it was missing until I needed it, I have been doomed to morning after morning of “discomforture” and running my fingers hastily through my hair thinking, “I can get by if I wear a hat.”
“Damn,” I’d think as I jammed a Phillies cap upon my mussed noggin. “I knew my comb was missing! Why didn’t I pick up a new one yesterday when I had the chance?”
Well, today I broke my cycle of an ire-filled minute each morning. Today I bought a comb. Today I bought a back-up comb, too.
Now if I can only remember to bring them into the apartment this evening…
Oh, wherrrrre is my hairbrush?
Oh, wherrrrre is my hairbrush?
Oh, where, oh where, oh, where, not there, oh, where, oh, where, oh, wherrrrrrrrrre
…Is my hairbrush?
-Larry the Cucumber from VeggieTales
Dmn, I was hoping you’d help me find my hairbrushes. Can’t find a blasted one of them.
I finally solved the tweezer problem by buying extras (one for the bathroom, bedroom, kitchen, car, office office and home office. Never know when those stray hairs are going to pop-up, and it drives me nuts until I can yank 'em out by the roots. Got tired of the 'Great Tweezer Hunt" until I finally got smart, bought extras and planted one in each room.
Looks like I’ll be shopping for hairbrushes and nailclippers today (same problem there).
We always had the nailclipper problem. Then earlier this week, I saw 3 of them on my dresser - apparently my darling spouse had been hoarding them somewhere…
Regarding the OP - I’m always finding his combs (hubby’s, not ChiefScott’s) in the washing machine. I can’t get the man to empty his pockets before putting his clothes in the hamper…
it looked lonely…so I picked it up and…
