I hate brushing my teeth. It's only two minutes out of my day but I dread it every single night.
Recurring battle with self:
"Do I really HAVE to brush tonight? I didn't eat THAT much junk."
"But do I really want to sit in the dentist chair with a drill in my mouth?"
"I brushed all week, I can skip ONE night, right?"
"Maybe if I chew gum instead..."
Usually my guilt wins out and I end up with fresh breath and sparkly molars each night. But once in a while, when I feel extra exhausted, I give in to my inner sloth.
On the nights I skip, I use a little trick I learned as a kid to convince my mom that I had in fact brushed my teeth- she used to use a smell test each night- gross, when I'm a parent, do I have to smell my kid's breath too? Anyway, the trick is to rub toothpaste on your tongue. Except now, I don't do it because of an impending parental breath check. I do it so my husband will still make out with me...
Monday, July 21, 2008
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2 comments:
I started reading your blog yesterday and I'm convinced we may be the same person. I grew up in Seattle and now live in Boston. I find your blog highly entertaining, please keep it up. I'm counting down the days with you!
I hate brushing my teeth, too. Of course, now I have a dentist appointment coming up...uh oh.
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