10 June 2011

Recycled toothbrush, by Preserve
I took my eight-year-old to the dentist to have the tartar removed from her front bottom teeth (and no, I don’t use the words “front bottom” in any other context: we say “vulva” in our house) and afterwards she was positively skipping with delight. I’d had no idea she was even bothered by the stains on her teeth (I made the appointment for healthy-gum reasons) and I think she surprised herself, too, with how pleased she was. But when I told my mother about it, and about my surprise that tooth-whiteness even figured in my daughter’s consciousness, she let out the matronly-Chinese-woman equivalent of, “Well, der.

Meanwhile, my boyfriend was treated to a confidence boost of his own. He forgot his house keys and had to climb in through the kitchen window. Turns out he's not as fat as he thought.

No comments:

Post a Comment