The Flossing Affair

Well, now that March is almost over, I’ve finally decided what my new years resolution is: to floss more. Or at all.

I don’t know why, but I’ve just never been able to bring myself to floss. I guess it’s just kind of slimy and dark; it’s hard to see what’s going on in the deeper recesses of your mouth with some fuzzy string twisted around your fat fingers. And if you can’t feel anything between your teeth, then you don’t feel like it’s necessary to floss.

Once I realized the floss slingshot contraption exists–you know, that thing that has a tiny strand of floss pre-spread out for you on a pick–flossing became kind of easy and fun, because, you know, we had the technology now, to floss more efficiently–finally! All those years I had gone without, and now I finally had the proper tools. Well, the flossing thing was good for a bit but it’s all been back-and-forth and it’s hard to keep up with something like flossing when all it really feels like you’re doing when you floss is jabbing a string between your teeth in order for your teeth to feel sore and your gums to bleed. How refreshing!

So I’ve been on and off on flossing. After I ran out of those floss picks the last time, I kind of quit flossing cold turkey. I just didn’t care enough to buy more floss. It seemed like a wasted effort. I could use the seven seconds I spent flossing my teeth on something more valuable, like petting my cat or scratching my butt or squirting perfume on my neck or dancing at myself in the mirror or contacting my senator to express my feelings about Trump’s proposed budget. The possibilities are endless. And why would I choose flossing over scratching my butt? So I got some seriously good scratches in after I gave up flossing.

Well, I was maybe six months strong on the no-flossing business. Then I caved.

It was at a friend’s apartment, as it were. I went to the bathroom, and I felt something burrowing between my teeth that just hadn’t paid rent and so I decided to evict it; naturally, I dug around in that person’s medicine cabinet to find their floss while using their bathroom– bingo. After that, I flossed every time I went over to a friend’s place; I never bought any floss myself, only flossed when I was being nosy through someone else’s bathroom hygiene products.

But something about how judgmental dentists are, man… I mean, they’re always all, “Mmmmm, looks like you could floss more, champ,” giving you that tone of condescension, like “If you flossed myyyy teeth, myyyy gums wouldn’t bleed,” and you’re like, “Thanks Dr. Linus, but you make enough money off my poor tooth hygiene to shut up and let me continue living my life to the fullest instead of flossing.” Anyway, I started thinking about how disappointed the dentist is every time he checks out my lame floss job–and you can never fool him, either; he always just knows–and I started getting guilty, and kind of determined to prove myself, honestly. Like, I don’t want that doctor to have any flack for me about my damn gums. I’ll show him.

So that’s when it occurred to me to up my floss game, and that flossing was a good, healthy, tangible goal for me, and in mid-March I resolved to make it happen this year.

Thus far, it’s been good. I bought floss, which was a good first step. After that, I made the next big step and used the purchased floss (and not a friend’s commandeered floss– I used my own floss). And I’ve done that a couple times since the beginning of this wild ride, and I’m pretty far along in my flossing journey. I give myself a star every time I floss, and when I get 500 stars, I will reward myself with a trip to the dentist. 2 stars down, 498 to go… I should be to the dentist in no time– maybe even within the decade!

Follow me on all social media to keep up with my new flossing lifestyle and get all the updates on my progress!

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