I don’t know what possessed me to get an electric toothbrush in the first place. Maybe it was because my gums had begun to gap and hold entire meals like those pouches of food in the freezer aisle. Maybe it was because a few teeth have said “good bye” and they never even came back for a visit.

Whatever the reason for the purchase, one thing is for sure. I should have had a couple of lessons before I started using it.

It probably would have helped to read the accompanying directions. I probably also should have had the toothbrush in my mouth when I first pressed the “on” switch. If I had, I probably wouldn’t have found out how difficult getting toothpaste out of carved wood on cupboards could be. I wouldn’t have realized that hot water is the best remedy for a smudged mirror; that it is impossible to truly get toothpaste out of lace without putting it in the washing machine; that there should never be witnesses when you are first learning how to use an electric toothbrush.

I changed clothes and started over with those important lessons learned.

I’ve never thought of myself as a drooler. Well, maybe once or twice when I leaned over to look at a diamond jewelry display, but not normally. But when that toothpaste tiller got going in my mouth, I was reminded of my horse getting her teeth cleaned when I was a kid. It was like throwing a bucket of water into a high speed fan. On the second attempt, the signs were not quite as obvious on the carved wood, the mirror, or the cotton shirt I was wearing, but they still needed to be remedied.

On the third start, the toothpaste and the drool were a little more cooperative. I kept the bumblebee sound and movement behind closed lips. My tongue tickled as the toothbrush bumped against it and a giggle almost escaped, but I was in no mood to change clothes again or clean the bathroom. Then, suddenly, and with more power than seemed possible, the toothbrush hit teeth on the top when I was brushing the bottom and it became a jackhammer out of control. I had to hit the kill switch and rest for a few moments.

During this rest, I reminisced about the good old days when I bought a toothbrush and kept it for several years, despite the warnings of hidden bacteria and ineffective cleaning. There is nothing better than a hand toothbrush that is “broken in” and the bristles go in several directions for a more gentle and weird cleaning experience. Obviously, however, it wasn’t as effective as it should be or I wouldn’t have needed quite as much dental work as I’ve needed in my lifetime. I don’t think the love of chocolate really had anything to do with it.

Over the years, my mind recalled, there was much excitement over innovations in handheld tooth brushes. I remember clearly the day I found one with a soft, textured grip and a rubber pick on one end. Amazing technology! Then there was the one that had blue bristles that turned white when it was time to replace the toothbrush. Of course, I took that as only a suggestion, but it was pretty clever all the same.

I have to admit that after a few weeks of my electric toothbrush and all the struggles we’ve been through together, I’m getting sort of appreciative of it. My teeth seem to be cleaner. My tongue is back to its original surface, the last coating must have splashed on the mirror a week or so back. My gums don’t seem to be packing lunch as often anymore.

I was telling a friend about my new found appreciation of my electric toothbrush and asked her, “Do you use an electric toothbrush?”

She confided that she does. Then, her eyes brightened and she said, “You need to get a WaterPik, too! I use that, too, and it is just awesome! But be careful, though. They are messy and you don’t want to be dressed up when you use it. I suggest you put a hand towel against your clothing or use it just before you shower at night.”

What? She didn’t think an electric toothbrush was messy, but those WaterPiks were a problem? I’m not sure I want to risk drowning.

Not even in the name of oral hygiene.

Source: farmandranchguide.com