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*

My "Eff off" Reflex

I like to think of my self as being a polite and patient person.

In most situations, I'm fooling myself.

There's just something about things not going exactly the way I want them to that really pisses me off and makes me unpleasant all around (Josh and Heath-- no jokes, please? Kthanx).

But really, I've noticed this trend of rudeness and impatience in myself and my peers. I call it (or, rather, Lynne Truss called it and I'm just stealing her phrase) the "Eff off" reflex.

Consider these two examples.

Every dental hygienist that has ever cleaned my teeth has tried my patience in some way or another. Lately, it's been more due to the fact that they seem so patronizing-- I'm not twelve-years-old anymore, thank you very much; you can keep the friggin sticker and lollipop. But the most annoying thing--the thing that triggers my "Eff off" reflex-- is they way that they try to carry on a conversation with you while they're cleaning.

"So, how has school been, sweetheart?" (The sweetheart thing is also a pet peeve. But I digress.)
"Hngh..."
"That's great. Do you know what you want to do for summer vacation?"
"..Hngh!"
"Sounds fun. What are you doing for Memorial Day?"
"Oh just eff off, will you!"

No, I've never ACTUALLY shouted that to a hygienist, but I've certainly felt the desire to. It's just so ridiculous. Surely they know when they ask you "How are you doing?" that you want nothing more than to scream, "I have your fist in my mouth, how do you THINK I'm doing?"


I have a friend who works at a local bookstore. Last year she was one of the lucky people picked to work the night that the final book of the Harry Potter series came out. As you can imagine, the crowd was horrible. I'm all for this series-- I think it's great that these books help youngsters become more enthusiastic about reading, and I know my friend, while not a fan of the books herself, feels the same way. But five hours of party games and sugar-doused treats shoved into the hands of kids never makes for an easy night, especially not when you factor in the excitement of the last novel in a series that has played babysitter to some of those kids. As midnight drew nearer, more and more kids were pestering the bookstore staff.

"Can we have the book yet?"
"It's not released until midnight."
"I want my book."
"I'm sorry, you'll have to wait."
"... I want my book."
"Eff off!"

I consider it a miracle that there were no homicides in the store that night--God knows, I'd probably have killed a kid.

There are plenty more places where the "Eff off" reflex shows itself-- in traffic, at the movies (particularly when you're in a middle school student sandwich), at work. It's something that effects everybody, I'm sure, but most of the time, I feel like it's just me, telling the everyone and everything to just leave me alone.