For Christmas, Marco got a toothbrush. (Actually, I think that he stole Grandpa's toothbrush).
And for the next two months it seemed to be his favorite thing. He played with it all the time. He went to bed with it. When he awoke in the morning, he went straight to where his toothbrush was left the night before. If it wasn't there, he would whine until someone found it for him. I thought to myself, why go to all the trouble to buy nice Christmas gifts - when all I needed to get him was a toothbrush!
Oh, but you should have seen the melt down that occurred at the airport when the TSA agents took his toothbrush away from him and made it go through the X-ray scanner. You would have thought that someone died from all the screamin' and hollerin' and fuss that Marco made. Do not separate this boy from his toothbrush.
The toothbrush is the only thing that kept Marco quiet at church for about 3 consecutive weeks. It was wonderful. Once he started to get fussy, we just pulled out the toothbrush and we were able to focus on the speakers and actually get something out of church.
But, just like Ty Beanie Babies, and the Macarena... all good things must come to an end. I'm just grateful that we got as much usage out of the toothbrush as possible. I do, however, wonder what he will attach to next.
