Toothbrush

The story of the kiddie toothbrush, just like I promised.

I wrote in an earlier post that dental hygienists annoy me because of their patronizing attitude. And so they do. But this has got to be the most ridiculous thing ever.

Tuesday morning, I went to the dentist for my usual 6 month cleaning. The appointment went as it normally does: the hygienist got that little mirror on a stick thing in my mouth and then started questioning me like she was planning to write my biography (which probably wouldn't take too long, really--I don't do much).

I dealt with it well enough. She still had both hands when she was done; I was cavity-free and ready to go grab my lunch and head back to work. I grabbed my bag of dentist goodies--you know, the container of floss, the bottle of mouthwash and the toothbrush-- and headed out the door.

When I got in my car, I noticed something odd about the toothbrush. It was small and pink (there's nothing wrong with pink, of course, but that's not the point).

The toothbrush was the same kind that my particular dentist gives little kids.

*Faceplam*

Let me say that I don't look young for my age. I was the kid in high school (and in college,too, as a matter of fact) who was cast as the old ladies in plays.

But there it was-- a kiddie toothbrush.

Don't they have a file or something that tells them my age?

So my new toothbrush went in the garbage can, along with the floss and the mouthwash (both of which had to go just on principle).

*Facepalm*