Flossing and Flashing
Two ways to start your day
Twice a day I wage a mighty battle. Anna v. the Floss Sticks. You might think that opposable thumbs and sentience would give me a huge advantage. But no. They are a phalanx of blue plastic armed with one point and two strings. And that weaponry seems to be enough. Some of the time.
It’s not that they draw blood (anymore) its that I don’t even want to face them. Sometimes I angle myself at the sink to avoid looking at the ceramic canister where I store them. It’s opaque. Not an accident. If I can’t see them they aren’t really there.
What I want to know is why does it take so much willpower to complete a 30 second task? Why do I need to psych myself up? Why does it feel like I will “treat myself” to skipping flossing. It makes no sense and yet it is true. I floss 3/4 of the time. So I guess I get a C at flossing. I won’t get into dental school with those grades.
My father used to say that the worst part of his day was putting on his socks. He would begin standing up, sitting would show the socks that they intimidated him. Then he would lose his balance, perch on the edge of the bed, huff and puff and emerge triumphant ready to put on his shoes. Or not. Because he was already worn down from the socks. So instead he put on slippers. Which didn’t require socks. So socks were a non issue. Yet we lived in Boston which didn’t often supply slipper weather. He decided it was easier to stay home than go out and freeze his ankles. Ultimately the socks won.
It takes a lot for me to feel ready for my day. Tough things like struggling into bras and brushing my dwindling hair and putting on my watch which is hopefully charged. Teeth care is second only to underwear in helping me feel ready to face the world. So when I skip flossing I start the day behind the field in the pit lane. Speaking of behinds I was chatting with a friend about times that we feel like we are kicking ass at life. (foreshadowing) She told me about a recent morning when she was up early, wearing a dress, bag packed, walking to work. I’m assuming she flossed. She said she felt like she was slaying it. The world was her bitch. A car honked and I imagine her giving a little wave. Then a car pulled over, the driver rolled down the window and yelled. “You have to pull your dress down” Her bag had lifted her entire skirt and she was striding down the street essentially bottomless.
It’s a tough thing to start the day.
I want to applaud you all for being awake. Nice work. And if you haven’t yet flossed you get another change tonight and tomorrow morning and tomorrow night and all the mornings and all the nights. Which is not at all overwhelming.
Ha! Your Dad really is central to this story. Eventually he gave up socks and put his bare feet in shoes. He gave a public lecture sitting on a chair on stage, leg crossed, revealing the absence of socks. Too bad he was not alive to see the shoes that do not require bending over at all.
But the flashing though... OMGahhhh!! O_O I would just die. That'd be it for me. I'd just run back home and call in sick.