We better have the cleanest teeth known to man or so help me...

Now that school is in full swing, I have been trying to get my routine put together. I forget with the chaos of summer how much I love a rigid schedule.

Like, laundry on Mondays and Thursdays. Bathrooms on Tuesdays and Fridays. Random closet organizing on Wednesdays.

It's pure OCD bliss, I tell you.

[And yes. I realize I'm totally weird. And, no, I do not care.]

This morning I decided to tackle the top level of our house. I started in my own closet, worked my way to the Husband's, and ended with both bathrooms.

There was dust, 409, and magic erasers flying everywhere.

So when I got to the kids' bathroom, I was prepared for the usual globs of toothpaste dribbled down the cupboard. I expected to find at least eight empty shampoo bottles lining their bathtub. [Which, naturally, I did.]

But what I was not prepared for?

The secret stash of old toothbrushes that someone has been collecting in the bottom drawer of the kids' bathroom.

It was like the serial killer trophy case for toothbrushes.

Remember that scene in the movie The Ghost and the Darkness when they find the lions' den and there are just piles and piles of bones?

It was like that. Only with toothbrushes.

I counted them (whilst wearing rubber gloves and tossing them into the trash) and there were 23.

Yes. TWENTY-THREE.

I am pretty sure that is like every toothbrush they've ever owned in their lives.

The question I have is why. Why?

I sort of get the rock/stuffed animal/coins/paper airplane collections. But old toothbrushes?

They have to get this from their father.