My toothbrush retired today. Not of its own volition, of course. Toothbrushes don't just shrug their bristles and say, "ehhh, i've had a good career. Made it through two tubes of Crest. I think I'm gonna go pursue other things. Maybe start up my own gig scrubbing showers or sumpin'"
No, toothbrushes just don't do that. Because they know that once they are done with the whole teeth-thing, they'll likely spend their silver years molding under a bathroom sink as the designated home "utility brush."
Since my toothbrush wasn't going into the night peacefully, I considered it my duty to take action. Show him who was boss. Exercise management control. So I brought him in for a little career counseling meeting.
Me: You know, Brush, I really appreciate everything you do for the company. Your dedication is unmatched.
Brush: Oh...thank you. I do my best y'know. Fight tooth and nail *chuckle* for this company...
Me: Tooth and nail. Ha. Funny. Yeah, the thing is that we've had some complaints about your uh bristles. They're too soft. And your blue indicator line faded away months ago...
Brush: You really believe those marketing scams? They make those blue lines fade away YEARS before you actually need to replace us. That's how Procter and Gamble makes its money, chief. They're rollin' in the greenstuff because of those indicator lines. I'll bet the guy who invented that is laughing his head off in Aspen, eating some kind of expensive French dessert at an overpriced ski lodge.
Me(muttering):Yeah well...at least his teeth will be clean...
Me: Ok look, the point is, you're done. You're yesterdays salami, Sunday's paper, The Old Kid on the Block. You've had a good run, but the show is over. It's time to call it Q. Pack up. Ship out. Move west. Try your hand at other things.
Brush: Are you firing me? After everything I've done for you? Just like that?? No notice!! I can NOT believe this. Remember when I worked overtime for you before that second date? Ten minutes of brushing. Ten minutes!! Huh? Remember that?
And what about the time I showed up to work even after you had just eaten fourteen oreos--I knew it was going to be a dirty job, but did I complain? Not once. Not a word. I was granulated for weeks. And did you ever even have the decency to buy me my own holding container? A cheap jerk like you, not a chance! Most of the time I was relegated to the second drawer or that horribly smelly leather travel case you own. And let me tell you now, man, that leather case is sprawling with bacteria. It's like an H1N1 spring break in there. And the drawer isn't much better. Hope you get strep throat, boss.
Me: Look, do you think this is easy for me? Do you think I want to move on to a new TB? We Heywoods are cheap. If I had my druthers, I'd just boil you for 30 seconds and call it good. But there's this little thing called the American Dental Association...
Brush: Oh, pish posh on the ADA!! Don't bring them up. They have nothing to do with this and you know it!
Me: Oh yeah!
Me: We'll choke on this, brush: "The ADA recommends that consumers replace toothbrushes approximately every 3–4 months or sooner if the bristles become frayed with use." And you are FRAYED!
Brush: No, I ain't afraid of anything. Fine. Send me to the showers. I'll scrub your mildew. But you better double and triple check your brush before every use because one day SHAZAM I'll show up in that VirusChamber you call a drawer and you'll be brushing your teeth with Comet reside. You just wait, Heywood, I'll have my revenge...