Time to Brush it Aside
By Neil Mulka, Jayplay writer
On Thursday, Jan. 22, I did something that turned my stomach like the sight of chunky milk in the back of the fridge.
I woke up and walked through my house to the bathroom, grumbling as I feel the dried spillage of god knows what on the floor with my bare feet. Upon entering the bathroom, I reach for my toothbrush, my mighty sword I use daily to slay the evil dragonbreath terrorizing my mouth kingdom. With the sword dipped in the gleaming tincture created by the mystical wizard Colgate of the Palmolive clan, the deadly beast will soon meet its doom.
Do-tich! Do-tich! Do-tich! Do-tich! Do-tich! The beast and I battle in the high
solar Mountains. Slur! Slur! Slur! Slur! Slur! We tango on the sensitive Gumline
coast. Wocha-Wocha-Wocha-Wocha-Wocha-Wocha, the sound of the deadly dance on
the Isle of Incisor and then we meet on the Tongue Plain, the beast trembling, reduced
to a mere salamander. I spit and rinse of this pathetic creature in triumph.
The battle is over, I rinse my trusty tool and then the horror strikes me as I hold the brush in my hand. This toothbrush is white with yellow grips and says "Iowa School of Dentistry." My toothbrush is embossed with "Heartland Dental."
If my mirror were a computer screen at that moment, there would a white box with a little bomb saying "Error #dumbass! THAT WASN'T YOUR TOOTHBRUSHI
Movement in my body was impossible — I was a statue. A warm, wet feeling crept through my body slowly like honey filling a jar. I realize I committed a social taboo—bless me father for I have sinned. It's routine, normal and almost involuntary. An after-morning and before-bed ritual.
Suddenly I could hear that song in my head I heard in the mess hall of Camp Cris Dobbin everyday, at every meal when I was a 12-year-old Boy Scout.
Brushing teeth.
"Brush your teeth.
Round and Roundl
Circle small,
gums and alll
Brush your teeth carefully
three times a day
to keep your gums healthy
The counselors would frolic through the wooden confines of the mess hall and sing this hymn about oral hygiene as we finished off meals of soggy fried chicken and Tang, the orange drink that was cheaper than Kool-Aid.
and fight tooth decay!
Teeth brushing was drilled into my head during my formative years by my parents, grandparents and Mrs. Berger, my 300-pound second-grade teacher who moved desks in aisles with her thighs.
All them taught me the rules of brushing just like the old shopkeeper in "Gremlins" taught Billy how to take care of Mogwai; brush before and after bed, brush the tongue, AND NEVER, EVER USES SOMEONE ELSE'S TOOTHBRUSH. The last rule was uttered like a Southern Baptist minister from Alabama. Oh, the horrors, coming from inserting a someone else's tool of dental hygienel Just as dangerous as unprotected sex and as disturbing as eating what you thought was cheesedip but was actually roommates' tanning lotion.
The rest of the day I wondered if the person whose toothbrush I used knew that I used it. Will it taste different? Different toothpastes have different flavors. Perhaps that person will smell my morning dragonbreath on that brush. Holy crap, what if that person had herpes? I can see the conversation with my girlfriend right now. "Ya see, honeybunny, most people get herpes from a hooker. Me, well I'm a special case . . ."
But six weeks later, my mouth is still in place all of the same germs hopping around like the ones in Dr. Mario. No one I share bathroom space with has reported any new mouth maladies. For now I have dodged a bullet a bullet I will never have to dodge again.
My brush is on the other side of the sink now.
— Neil Mulka can be reached at nmulka@kansan.com.
5.06.04
Jayplay
15