Sunday, September 22, 2013

Terrifying Toothbrush

So there I was minding my own business, having a foot rub (this is not my feet being rubbed, but the HBs using their feet on my tummy - heavenly) and all that jazz when Fay said, 'Mummy why are Stanley's teeth getting all yellow?'

Cheeky. Her teeth are hardly amazing.

Then the pair of them start prodding and probing, exploring areas of my mouth that I don't even go to.

'Get off,' I said, but they pulled at my lips and pushed my beard aside.
'I think we need to brush them,' said Mummy.
Brush them? What the heck did that mean?
'Get an old toothbrush Fay and better use the mentadent P, it might be milder, or shall we use Sasha's?'
'Mentadent P will be fine,' said Fay, running off.

I tried to slope off, I didn't like the tension build up, but they grabbed at me and thrust this disgusting tasting mini brush in my mouth. What have I done to deserve such punishment, I thought. It was relentless. Yuk, yuk, yukkity, yuk yuk.

Even the gravy bone I was given afterwards tasted vile. I shall never forgive them this time.
Apparently it's going to be a weekly thing, well I'm not standing for it. It's one step too far, back off HBs or I'll bite you - don't need white teeth for that you know.