Toothpaste

After about 30 minutes of sitting perched at my computer on my barstool, clad in workout clothes, I notice the clock and blearily call my workout partner.
6.15am.
This time it was she who gasped and sputtered 'I slept through my alarm today!'. After some tired-morning giggles we both wonder what is up with the universe of late. We used to be religious about our workouts. Heck, we used to workout more often than we peed. What gives?
We make vague plans to walk this afternoon instead, which is torturous in the Alabama heat.
I stretch, yawn, and make my way to the bathroom to brush my teeth at *which* point I actually read the toothpaste I've had for months.

"Keep out of reach of children under 6 years of age. If more than used for brushing is accidentially swallowed, get medical help or contact Poison Control Center right away."

WAIT.
What?
And we use this stuff?!
Not only that but I splashed this sucker all over my Bowie CD?
Do I have to take Bowie to Poison Control now?

I swear toothpaste wasn't a hazardous material when we were kids.
I'm not making that up...Right?!