Everybody finds a way to shine


I’m 37, and today, I learned how to brush my teeth.

Apparently, I scrub my pearly whites as though I’m sanding down a fallen oak. And, to boot, I’m using a toothpaste the equivalent of gargling rocks.

tooth.jpgFor the last few years, my lower right teeth will sometimes feel sensitive. They’ve worn down, so they’re exposed, meaning brushing can trigger pain in the roots.

The kind hygienist quickly determined that my overzealous attempts at personal dental care were to blame. I’ve brought this on myself.

She demonstrated how routine strokes use the whole arm, muscling those bristles too forcefully against the outer enamel and gums. I should start on the insides (thicker gums), then end on the outside, holding the brush like a pencil rather than a machete.

I should point out that my dentist and my hygienist love me, or rather, my teeth. Maybe they say that to all the fellers, but allow me a brief happiness while having my floss ‘n’ scrape.

They even polish the back side of the teeth. So I have the purtiest mouth that no one can actually see.

And I still wear the nightly mouthguard to prevent unconscious oral self-sabotage.

So after the brush-up (ha!) on technique, the hygienist recoiled when she found I use Ultra Brite. She said it was one of the most abrasive toothpastes out there. I had no idea.

Time to switch to a milder brand. We have the foamy soap, can we not rush a foamy dentifrice to market? Spray, swish, spit. See, I even have a slogan ready to go.

No charge, just ship me a case.

Being a fan of eating, I’ve decided to adopt these suggestions from my dental professionals. Yet, it’s rather sad that a grown man can’t take care of his own choppers after all this time.

I’ll have the last laugh, even with a crooked, toothless smile.


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