Last night while brushing my teeth I noticed mid-scrub that it wasn't my toothbrush. Pausing for several seconds, I evaluated the situation taking into account that this toothbrush is a guest toothbrush. Does this count as a normal toothbrush since it's used tri-yearly? Surely the plaque and germs have dissolved since its last use, which makes this situation much less offensive and disgusting than if it were my roommate's toothbrush. On the other hand, it's lived in my bathroom for about a year with ample time to soak up the goings on of an abode shared by three people (four of five if you count significant others and a gay man).
In the end I continued with my nightly brushing and woke up the next morning as if I'd used my own toothbrush. I even had nice dreams.
It got me thinking that there are two types of people in the world. Those who find sharing toothbrushes grotesque, and those who will offer their toothbrush to a friend's cousin's gardener's best friend's babysitter.
The thing about brushing teeth is that we do it to clean our mouths from all the roughage and animal bi-products we put in there each day. There are remnants of In N' Out and those Cheetos you secretly ate on the way home from the gym. Residue of morning coffee and lunchtime Diet Cokes. Boogers if you're 5, and sardine bones if you're 95.
All in all, the mouth is a horrifying place. It is purgatory for foodstuffs that will not make it to digestion for a few hours or at all. They lie lodged between the teeth only to rot and create plaque and tartar. After some time, their sorrow becomes rage and they begin boring holes in the enamel that is holding them hostage. At this point it can be confirmed that that chunk of broccoli did not successfully make it to digestion, bless its poor soul.
The toothbrush is our main defense against situations like these, similar to observing ecclesiastical religions or having money. We take them for granted, but they are the brave ones entering those muggy caves of treachery, fearlessly doing away with any potential hole-boring slivers of eggplant.
That said, the people who share toothbrushes don't take the time to think of all their toothbrush has done for them. It went in shiny, white, and firm-bristled to come out a little duller and slightly yellower with bristles straying in every direction more and more each time. And we all know why, which begs the question, why do people share toothbrushes (purposely, willingly, gladly)?
Anything you've placed in your mouth within the last 12 hours or so will then be transferred to the other person's mouth, who will then transfer their skittles and english muffin remnants to your mouth in a terrifying and nauseating cycle. This is the result of toothbrush sharing. Stop it.
Stop sharing toothbrushes. It's (generally) not ok. There are several instances when it is ok (ugh) but another tangent will be born and I'll become even angrier about something that has no baring on my life, since I personally don't share toothbrushes. I just use them by mistake sometimes.
