Toothbrushes in the cup

Some mornings I am quicker on the draw than others to set up my toothbrush, but generally speaking it's first thing thing I do. Something about having a fresh scrubbed mouth right off the bat sets the tone for the day. I know that my dentist would appreciate if I brushed more often, or longer, or paid even more attention to flossing than I already do. But I think of my times of really poor dental hygiene and know that what I do these days is far and away better than almost any other time of my life. They're the only teeth I have. No dentures for me, least ways, as long as I can avoid it.

To that end I am always happy to buy toothbrushes when I see them on sale, or if I'm at a big box retailer like Costco, or if I'm off food shopping at Grocery Outlet. Seems like that place always has a good deal on brushes, so I generally stock up when I'm there, since I'm there to stock up on other necessities like whole tomatoes, noodles, beans, coffee and wine. Almost sounds like frontier provisions picked up in the outpost general store. I suppose that toothbrushes should have been there, packed in alongside the salt pork and flour, for those hapless, brave people preparing to cross the Great American Desert, but I am sure that they had more important things on their minds to think about.

Looking in my bathroom cabinet I see three toothbrushes in use, something that I try to do whenever I can. It's not too unlike rotating your shoes. You want to get the best out of your brushes. It's important to air them out, or something like that. I suppose I could use the same one till the bristles were bent and ragged but what's the point when they're so inexpensive to begin with? Why not have three or four brushes going at once? When the kids were here this last summer we must have had a baker's dozen residing in that bathroom cupboard. I thought they had pretty much run through all my reserves but I think they were just brushes left over from last summer. I wonder, did I let them dry out in the cup, or did I soak them in mouthwash and store them away or did I boil them? What? I'm not for certain but mysterious and magically all of sudden there were 12 plus toothbrushes once again in the medicine cabinet the 4th of July. How wonderful is that?

Then there was that time, which I suppose is the whole point to this post, when your tooth brush was part of my cabinet culture. It wasn't on purpose, or even thought out. It wasn't planned or even made a point of. We had just come back from the Gala and you asked if I had a toothbrush you could use. Somehow this part of the story is clear in my head. Am I wrong about the date? All I know is that you asked and I rummaged around in the linen closet and came up with one for you. Brand new, in one of those tough plastic cases that take forever to unwrap.

Was it that time or the next that we stood side by side and brushed together? You said something about wanting both of us to taste fresh, for what you and I both know right here and now. No sense wasting words on that. But I remember standing there, watching you brush, knowing that that water was not running and that you found it strange and endearing and that you thought enough of it to comment on it. All the while brushing, with something like a big wink on your face. Bemusement? Awe? Giddiness? I can't say but we had no choice but to brush or bust out laughing.

I know that until the family returned your toothbrush was in my cup in the bathroom cabinet. I moved it over the little house when I took over that space and finally unloaded it around the time of the Second Coda. I know that when you came around that brush came in handy for those post coffee mornings, for those times when we had gone out for supper and you wanted to brush prior to playing our last minute parlor games and such. But more than anything those toothbrushes, standing side by side in my bathroom cabinet, were a reminder of our civility, of our respect and the pleasure we took knowing the pleasure that our clean mouths gave, not so much for ourselves but to each other.

My cabinet has three brushes going, none of them yours. But know that I have about a dozen or so brand new ones in the linen cabinet, waiting for company or family or a special friend to come by who needs to brush terribly. Maybe that new friend might think my lack of running water weird, or think it strange that I have three brush going at once. All I know is that you were a spoiler, and that you and I are eternal brush buddies, ones who can stand at the sink and scrub away, knowing that all that hard work has a purpose, and that is to prepare the way for a really good kiss.

Your WHMB