Toothbrush's End

I am a fan of toothbrushes. I am a fan of anything that gives its job its all, and toothbrushes just have a tendency to do that. I have met a few lazy toothbrushes in my time, for instance there was once an electrical one that I could simply not agree with. It would sit around all day on its charger, and then when it was called into work, it would whine and complain the whole time, spinning its head around in circles and vibrating my arm so hard that I no longer felt compelled to brush my teeth. He was lazy. Manual toothbrushes; I respect those.

A toothbrush has a certain level of class to it. It knows its job, and it does it well, even in the face of its own demise. A toothbrush knows it will die cleaning one day, it knows its bristles will fall out, will reshape themselves, and yet it still cleans. Unfaltering commitment. I respect that in plastic.

When it comes close to the toothbrushes end, there's always that feeling of longing. If the toothbrush could talk, I often feel he would be saying something like this:

"I have fought my hardest, sir. Killed all the plaque and tooth decay I can. I've got nothing left."

"You did well, toothbrush"

"Thank you sir. I'll see you... on the... other... side..."

"Go in peace, soldier."

And off he goes to toothbrush heaven. I don't know if such a place exists, but I hope it does. Toothbrushes deserve their happy ending too. They do so much, and get such little reward for it, and yet look at where we'd be with out them. England would have even more tooth decay!

I think we should all spend the next five minutes paying homage to our fallen toothbrushes. A moment of silence is in order. Go, now, and reflect in peace. Give your toothbrush a hug. Say thank you once you have cleaned. Say goodbye when you discard it. It loves you. You should love it too.