We were at a retreat facility, getting ready in the morning.  Siah was exploring the underside of the sink basin, and found a small hole.  Which he promptly wiggled his toothbrush into and lost.  

He was so astonished!  “Toofbwush?”  “Whe-ah-oo, toofbrush?”  (where are you, toothbrush?)  “Tooooooooofbrush?!”  “Mama?  Whe di my toofbrush go?”
“Where did your toothbrush go?  I don’t know Siah?  What did you do with it?”
“It went in da sink, mama.”
“Oh.”  “Well, get it out, then.”  This was followed by futile attempts to wiggle his fat, little fingers into the hole, or to level his eye up to it to peer in.  Neither of which were successful.
We tracked down the facility manager and told him about it.  I wasn’t too worried about recovering the thing – I was going to trash it anyway.  But Siah wanted to see if there was something that could be done. 
As precious as could be, he asked the man, “Can you pwease hep me git my toofbrush oud-ah-da (out of the) sink?”  (Awww!)
[end of the story: toofbrush is MIA]