brusha brusha brusha - brusha jack's teetha

I. AM. GOING. TO. THROW. UP.

Um... I just found my son brushing his teeth with a tooth brush I am pretty sure my husband uses to clean his golf clubs and/or shoes (and to be honest, quite possibly the toilets). Yes, my dear "three going on ten year old," who I usually don't worry about him getting into stuff when he says "I am going to brush my teeth", decided to use this disgusting excuse for a toothbrush to brush his teeth. BARF. Barf. baaaaa-rrrrrr-ffff. Poor friend was so confused when I COMPLETELY LOST it when he walked into the kitchen with said toothbrush.

You see, teeth brushing is typically very encouraged chez P (of course with the exception of a toothbrush that could likely be used in a petri dish for a science project). Before you think I am making a joke out of something potentially dangerous... i was about to call poison control to see if there was any precaution to take but since I didn't have any answers to the questions:
(What cleaning solvent did he swallow? I don't know.
Did he swallow anything? I don't know.
Did he put the nasty tooth brush in his mouth? Yes.
What was on the tooth brush? I don't know... well wait there are some little black specks deep in the teeth... but i don't think he touched that!?EEK!)
Basically the only answer I had was:
Did you sufficiently scare the "doo doo" out of your three year old? Absolutely.)
So I decided to call my rational husband (and sister) who both said if there was even anything on the tooth brush it would be trace amounts and to make him drink water and wait and see.

These are the moments as a parent where you don't know what you want to do more... ring your child's neck or put your mouth to his and suck out every bad germ he just put in there... Anyways... Chaos ensues. I'm freaking out (dramatic much). Jack's crying. Thomas is crying. I am thinking about crying or breaking out a glass of wine...but managed to do neither. Oh, and did I mention we were in the middle of baking corn muffins. Thomas continues to get so worked up by the chaos that he spits milk all over me (wrong child throwing up as far as I am concerned!). To the showers we go. While in the shower (with Thomas, because I can't remember the last time I showered by myself), I remember we were making corn muffins when all this nonsense STARTED! Grrrr... Wet thomas to the crib, wet mommy in towel downstairs to rescue the very burnt (and soon to be wet) muffins. Between the mom freakout, kids crying, phone ringing, showering... the corn muffins didn't make it.

And as if that chaos wasn't enough, I then had to have a conversation about how "some words" are reserved for mommies and daddies to use. All in a days work here at mes petits choux. I know you're all jumping to get your votes in for mother of the year... but voting doesn't start till October.