Earlier this week we bought a bulk package of space-age toothbrushes in various glowing colors, a necessary purchase considering that our current toothbrushes look like they've been run over by a tank and then used to clean the engine of a car. I am personally not very particular about toothbrushes, as long as they have bristles I'll be able to get my teeth clean. But Jon could not wait to test out the revolutionary features on these new brushes: the soft rubber polishing cups, the bristled tongue cleaner, the raised thumbgrip pad. They also have a sleek angled neck that makes it possible to clean those hard-to-reach areas which is such a relief because I was getting tired of just OPENING MY MOUTH A LITTLE WIDER to make that happen.

Last night as we were getting ready for bed Jon lingered over the sink and examined his toothbrush with the same awe as a baby presented with its mother's nipple. "Don't you feel like your toothbrush experience has been changed forever?" he asked.

"Jon," I said. "You just said toothbrush experience. There is no such thing."

"But I feel like my teeth are so much cleaner."

"My teeth don't feel any different."

"That's because I am the target market for this type of product, Heather."

"Which target market is that?"

"Adult male who appreciates software with added features."

"GULLIBLE WHITE GEEK WITH EXPENDABLE INCOME."