The first thing my son always does when he gets out of bed is brush his teeth. Not a cursory scrub, either. At least ten seconds is spent per tooth, and when each is shining, he spends another two minutes flossing. Finally, he swishes mouthwash with an energy matched only by a tidal wave, and then goes onto his next task: eating. It’s baffling. Life with a six-year-old, I guess. You’d think he’d eat before brushing, but nope, he then has cereal with milk. He’ll scream if he’s served anything else. I’m not sure he knows what cereal tastes like without the lingering minty aftertaste. Can you guess what he does after he eats? He brushes his goddamn teeth.
I think it has to do with his stuffed animals, honestly. He’s got a few rows of ’em, all lined up on his bed: Sharks, monkeys, tigers, crocodiles, even a zebra. He picks them out at the store specifically, and I bet you can imagine why. For their bright, shiny, teeth. He’s even got a little toothbrush for them, and every day before he goes to school, he pretends to brush their teeth. Not for the length he spends on his own, thank God. We’d never leave the house.
Maybe the kid wants to be a dentist. He’s never said so, and I’ve never asked, mostly because I don’t want to put the idea in his head. He always makes sure, though, that he’s standing in the bathroom doorway whenever someone else in the family brushes. He used to tell us how long to…
