Reprinted with permission from The Daddy Diaries.
I’d like to give this little sweetheart a shoutout this morning for helping her daddy. 
You see, 5:00 am came pretty early this morning. My eyes were having a hard time staying open, and I sure did want to go climb back into that bed.
But I fought the urge. I rubbed my red eyes and stumbled to the bathroom searching for the light switch. Before I found the light switch, however, I found a tiny itsy bitsy Lalaloopsy toy doll with my bare foot.
Here’s something you may not have known: itsy bitsy Lalaloopsy dolls are made from razor blades and rusty ten penny nails. I stepped solidly on it in the dark floor, and I suddenly felt like I was Theon Grayjoy being tortured in the dungeon by Ramsey Bolton. (That’s a GoT reference, if you don’t know.)
Pain shot through my foot. I cursed, slipped and stumbled, finally catching myself with the bathroom counter. A few quiet curse words hissed under my breath, I closed the bathroom door and flipped on the light. Another rub of my eyes, I grabbed my toothbrush, put some toothpaste on it and started brushing my teeth.
Immediately, something amiss. What the hell is in my frickin’ mouth? It feels like what I imagine eating 3 day old bacon grease would taste like. It’s greasy and covering my teeth. Holding off a gag, I spit, and spit, and spit. I look at my toothbrush, and something is most definitely not right. I’m rinsing my mouth out, gargling, scrubbing with my finger. Anything to get the horrible greasy taste out of my mouth.
I then noticed the empty tube of Neosporin sitting by my toiletry bag. Squeezed and smooshed by little grubby toddler hands, no doubt. And apparently all over my damn toothbrush.
I’m very awake now. Thank you, Gracee.
