Somehow I left the house this morning and forgot to brush my teeth. Man, that’s the worst, isn’t it?

No, it wasn’t. After I drank the rest of my coffee and ate beans and weenies for lunch, THEN it was the worst.

So on my lunch break I walked up to the Willy Street Co-op and bought myself a toothbrush and a tube of paste to keep in my desk drawer at work. That used to be part of my office kit, along with my shoe polish and my water bottle, but somehow the brush got left behind and I didn’t bother to replace it until I ended up with a tongue that tasted like a gym sock.

While I was standing in line to check out, I made an impulse buy: A bar of chocolate, something else I like to keep in my desk drawer for those days when, at around three-thirty in the afternoon, I just can’t wait for dinner any longer.

When she rang up my bill, the gal at the cash register gave me a great big smile and said, “Can I tell you how much I enjoy your purchase?”

“What, you mean the toothbrush and toothpaste, and the bar of chocolate?” I said. “What can I say? I live for irony.”