Chewable Toothbrushes

Ah, Dr McCookerybook was up before the frozen lark this morning, to drive down to Crouch End to pick Mr Stephenson up for his early flight to Inverness.
He'd done a brilliant gig last night, sold out, warm and friendly and funny, with lots of good singers in the audience who joined in the choruses and more. For Southbound, Jim Morrison's fiddle playing was augmented by a talented harmonica player.
A kindly punter stood at the door, stopping it from slamming and spoiling the music as people piled in.
Yes... Barnet Hill, Muswell Hill, Crouch End Hill; at -3.5 degrees it was a wonder I managed to get to Crouch End given the ice factor. But people were up and driving, carrying motorway salt with their tyres on to the suburban roads and dodging the deep potholes at Muswell Hill.
On the M1, a mad driver shot on the the carriageway just in front of us down a sliproad, crashing straight into the barrier at the central reservation and bouncing across the outside and outer middle lanes. He must have been driving very fast and had hit a patch of ice; Martin called the police, as it looked like a pile-up in waiting.

Later, in the airport I went the the Ladies.
I noticed the little spherical balls of chewable toothbrushes jiggling and rotating in their dispenser on the wall next to the drier as I dried my hands.
How exciting! They had a special jiggler to make people want to buy them!
But no.
As soon as the drier stopped, they stopped too.
So I tested it again... hands under the nozzle, on went the drier... 'Whoooosh!'
Jiggle, jiggle, twizzle twizzle, went the little balls of chewable toothbrush.
It was the vibrations from the hand-drier that were agitating them.

Sorry. These tiny things in life never cease to amaze me.
Do try it, next time you have a few minutes to spare at Luton Airport.