And so finally, the number one memory from the Currarong trip. All I remember was that it was pretty late in the evening, and I was firmly in couch potato mode (a mode which I rarely switch off) watching TV while the other three members of the unit of fun were preparing for bed. Well, at leat that was what I thought. Apparently only 2/3rds of the other members of the unit were preparing for bed, and the remaining 1/3rd was preparing a little surprise of his own.

Now any good Mother will often tell you that they know that their children are behaving when they can hear all hell breaking loose. It is always those moments when the children go deathly quiet that mothers know their children are smearing themselves in vasoline, covering their younger sister head to toe in vegimite, or standing in the corner heaving and soiling themselves. Of course, none of that is from personal experience.

But an absence of sound spells 'trouble' to mothers. To fathers on the other hand, the absence of noise spells a chance to watch the entire game without interruption. It doesn't matter that your son has now jammed his head between the bars of the cot, as long as the little bugger doesn't make any noise until half time.

I know all this about children and noise, and so alarm bells should have started ringing when I noticed one person wander silently to the kitchen, get something from the drawer, and return silently to the bathroom. I must confess that when I first saw it my initial thought was 'oh, he is way more constipated than I realise', but in retrospect I should have been onto him faster.

It doesn't matter that your son has now jammed his head between the bars of the cot, as long as the little bugger doesn't make any noise until half time.

Not that his plan affected me in any way... not directly at least. You see, he spent his time in the bathroom with scissors cutting the bristles off a particular Bert Newton impersonators toothbrush. Not cutting it right back to the head mind you, but down to halfway. You can see in the pic the un-named person and myself standing with the cut toothbrush, and a normal toothbrush for comparison... as you can see, he is covering his face in a vain attempt to remain annonymous. You can also see the cut down toothbrush.

Now, the new sawn off toothbrush was put back into the toiletries kit, and nothing more was said of the matter. But around midnight, the silence of the darkness was broken, a voice echoed out into the night... "WHAT THE HELL??". Almost as soon as that voice subsided, laughter rang out from the various rooms in the unit.

Now, while I said his prank didn't directly effect me, the unfortunate side effect of this was that I was held accountable for the prank, and as such MY toothbrush was vandalised with toenail clippers. Mind you, I didn't care and kept using my toothbrush for a few weeks afterwards, despite knowing the proximities of both toothbrush and nail clippers.

Interestingly, we did decide to vandalise the toothbrush of the un-named person... but couldn't find it. Because he DIDN'T HAVE ONE. Who doesn't have a toothbrush? Let me tell you who...

Someone who doesn't value their teeth. Someone who drives utes and shoots guns... someone like a bogan.