The Poopetrator

I was getting ready for church this fine Sunday morning when I ushered the boys upstairs to get ready along with me. I would hear running, giggling, slamming, and the usual mayhem and madness. It all died down a bit and lasted more than a mere 10 seconds so I thought I would check it out. I found the busy trio huddled in the bathroom. Carson on the toilet and Drake and Brooks offering encouragement.
Having seen this a thousand times before, I went back to my bedroom to continue what I was doing. A few short minutes later I heard words that made me cringe, "MOOOOOOOOOOOOM! My toothbrush fell in the toilet." Quickly I started racking my brain, had I heard the toilet flush? Had I not? Was that the sink?
I stopped what I was doing and went to assess the damage. As it turned out, Carson had suctioned his toothbrush to the toilet seat. (Carson and Drake have these light up toothbrushes that we just bought last week no less, that have suction cups on the bottom of them so they can stand upright to dry.) As if that wasn't gross enough, he had somehow knocked the toothbrush into the toilet, and there it stuck, bristles down, in a big, brown turd.
There was no way I was touching the thing. I made Carson fish it out and throw it in his sink. I will leave out a few of the hithertos and wherefores and suffice it to say that after soap and water, bleach, and a run through the dishwasher, Carson did in fact brush his teeth with said toothbrush after lunch. Had it not been for the fact that we threw all extra toothbrushes away the week before when we got the new light up ones, I would have burned the vile thing on the spot. I am a mom of boys.