the missing toothbrush

Getting ready for bed I notice my husband moving things around in haste and searching through drawers and cupboards in the bathroom.

"What are you looking for?"

"My toothbrush!  I think Hadden had it again."

As he moves into the bedroom to check under the bed, I have a faint recollection of where it might be.  As usual, our toddler hung out with me as I got ready that morning and, as usual, he rifled through his father's toiletries.  I silently retrieve the missing toothbrush and place it in his drawer, where he's already looked several times.

"Have you looked in your drawer?"

There were a few moments of silence before I ask again.

"Darling, have you checked the drawer?"

"My drawer?  You mean where I always put it?  Of course I checked there."

He paces into the bathroom and opens the drawer, grabbing the once-missing toothbrush at once.

"...alright...where was it this time?"  He seems reluctant to hear my answer.

I don't respond because I'm busy trying to muffle my laugher in a towel.

He looks around the bathroom suspiciously.

"Was..." he begins at first, "Did he leave it on the floor of the shower?"

I try to suppress a rueful smile as he waffles between annoyance and amusement.

"BRUSH SIDE DOWN?!"

I wait a moment before responding diplomatically, "I'll buy you a new toothbrush tomorrow, dear."