An electric toothbrush— love and hate. 27TH NOVEMBER I love my toothbrush, the circular motion, up and down, round and round. Is it because I’m left-handed, or right-handed? I put it to the left, look in the mirror, rub my gum more than my tooth. One side sore, one side unclean. I loathe toothpaste. I hate it. I hate this smile. I hate the taste. But I love clean teeth— the touch of the tongue across the front, smooth, shining. Every three weeks, my sore gum returns. I forget what I’m doing, leave it whirling, mindless chore. I love my toothbrush. I love clean teeth. I loathe my sore gum. It’s a pattern I repeat, monthly, weekly, over-brushed, sore gum. When I’m old, really old, I won’t brush my teeth. Fifty years, twice a day, since I was nine or ten. Don’t get me started on toothpicks, tape, wax, gaps. But when I’m seventy-five— no more. I’ll rub the t...
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