I finally figured out how to brush Monkey Man's teeth - to my standards. He was in a grumpy mood tonight and although brushing his teeth is not a chore he enjoys in good spirits, I couldn't let the melodrama of being 3 get to me. This had to get done because I really don't want to spend his college savings on dental work. He sat on the side of the tub wailing. Why was he wailing? Oh, who cares right now because wailing means his mouth was WIDE OPEN. At that moment I cared more about the health of his teeth than his emotional state so I inserted toothbrush and got to work. His mouth was actually open for about 2 minutes and I got to clean every surface of every tooth. I felt victorious. Tears streamed down his face, dripping down to his sparkly whites.
Compassion set in and I asked, "Why are you crying?"
"Because I don't want to go to swim class." That occurs tomorrow. Wow, I can't wait until he's a teenager and this kind of rational thinking occurs everyday. Somebody, pour me a drink. I might as well start numbing myself now.