Flossing sounds so sophisticated. Only performed by those few in the select club of hygiene so outstanding, mere mortals could walk up to these elect and use their slimy tissues as an anti-bacterial wipe. You probably know at least one person that falls into this category. Someone who smells like wildflowers after working out rather than an old gym sock that was deep fried then left in a toilet for a few days. Well, I'm definitely the latter in the above scenario. As a matter of fact, my hygiene isn't really all that great, period. My feet stink so bad sometimes, I notice my dog starts sniffing his own butt to take away from my lingering stench. Being guilty at least once a week of forgetting to brush my teeth at night is just the beginning. My college girlfriends, as a term of endearment of course, like to refer to my smell after a nice work-out as "man b.o.".
My mother recently came up to visit and began to tell me of my brother who had disclosed horrific news to her; he had not been to the dentist in over 6 years. Well, I'm not too far from that nightmare of my mother's as well. When our life-long family dentist decided to retire, Jake and I decided to retire our twice a year cleaning ritual as well. Although, I have gone to the dentist once in the six years, this habit of hygiene my mother attempted to instill in her children has failed.
"Mom, I think I may even have a cavity", I said after I told her I hadn't been to the dentist in two years (reality is four).
"Oh, No!", a look of horror rushes over her face, "What makes you think that?".
"Well, a big piece of my tooth fell out", I reply, "Do you think that is a sign?".
Ever have those dreams where your teeth become really loose and begin to fall out? Well, my reality isn't too far from that dream. A piece of my tooth actually fell out. That's gotta be a bad sign.
You've gotta wonder how a dog does it. You know, keeps that nasty mouth of theirs so clean. Maybe Mark should throw me a raw-hide bone every night for me to lie on the floor and chew while watching the nightly news. Or maybe their is healing powers in licking your own bum. Either way, all I know it that Huck's breath smells like a garbage truck yet, his teeth are probably healthier than mine.
Don't hound me, I'll suck it up and spend the money to go to the dentist. (After I pay for my trip to Vegas, which of course trumps my oral health). I'm scared to death that they are going to have to put a filling in every one of my teeth...my bank account certainly hopes not.