At home with the pollards

A few days ago. I had a few hours to myself. An entire day, actually. Only I had a horrid case of the runs, so I wasn’t going to plan on leaving the comfort of my bunk, swaddled in the appeasement of my hand made blankets (courtesy of jons grandma sue, and my aunt marryanne).
Just as I was about to drift off into well justified sleep, a funny memory popped up in that overzealous brain of mine. One muggy afternoon, I went to go play with bonzai. That little bugger had alge all over his shell! Somewhat irritated at having to constantly clean his shell off (which come to think of it, I had no right to complain at all, jons the one who weekley cleans his tank, so who am I to complain?)
I rushed to my flamiongo themed bathroom upstairs, grabbed some ratty looking toothbrush, and started scrubbing. Taken aback at the horrified look encompassing jons face, I asked in my usual straightforward uncomplicated demeanor “is there a problem?”
“that’s my freaking toothbrush you’re using!” he quipped, sounding increasingly disgusted. Though my initial inner thoughts were something along the lines of “omigosh, oops, I’m sorry”, I retorted “well what was your toothbrush doing in my flamingo bathroom?”
And that’s what rooted this comic J