Down In The Mouth?

Last week Nicholas and Nathan had dentist appointments. Quite by chance, it was the same week that a dental hygienist visited Nick's classroom and talked to them about their teeth. The end result was that Nick ended up with buckets of pamphlets, floss, toothpaste, and toothbrushes.

For Christmas the boys got battery operated toothbrushes, and within two days the works were gunked up with globs of toothpaste, which the boys insist on putting on themselves, meaning they use three times the amount they should. They also never rinse the bristles off. I was actually excited to see these things go.

As soon as he got home from school, Nick wanted to brush his teeth. "Can I brush them now, Mom? Now? How about now?" I managed to convince him to wait until after supper. Finally we get to that point, and the boys are very excited about the new tooth stuff, and I turn around and there is Nicholas, sitting on the toilet seat, barely holding himself together.

"Nicholas, you look so sad! Is something wrong?"

At this point Nick started sobbing, loud, heart wrenching cries, his small body heaving, and it took a few moments for me to make out the words he was trying to get out. "I'm going to miss my old toothbrush so much!"

I explained that this wasn't something to cry over, and Nick disagreed and explained that the new toothbrush wouldn't 'tickle his teeth' the same way. And I told him he could keep it until he was ready to throw it out.

And I get extra points for not laughing right out loud, even though I really really wanted to.