Toothpicks, Postmortem

He uses them, I find them.

On the kitchen floor.

In the lint catcher of the dryer.

In the dryer. On the floor near the dryer.

In his car.

In my car.

With each finding, I march to him holding the wooden spear aloft.

Look, another one. This one was attached to the cat bed.

Just put it on the counter, he mumbles briefly gazing up from his book.

I’ll check the points later to see if it has any life left in it.