Eight minutes of my life

by Katie on November 29, 2011

I mentioned I recently got a mouth full of metal, right (for the second time in my life…get your wisdom teeth pulled right after braces and permanent retainers fixed when they break, kids). Well, the day they installed my hardware, they also gave me an electric toothbrush. With a timer.

Apparently, two minutes is how long you’re supposed to brush your teeth. So this toothbrush has a timer that lets you know when that two minutes is up. When they were explaining all this to me, I was like, “Really? Two minutes? That’s all? I brush my teeth waaaayyy longer than that.”

Brandon can attest to this. Mainly because he used to complain about my tooth-brushing time before bed.

But not anymore.

Now, when he’s in bed waiting on me, and he hears my toothbrush start to stall out on me (that’s how the timer works – it just stalls a few times than lets you keep going), he hollers, “You’re done! Katie, you’re done! That’s all you’re supposed to do. Two minutes is up!”

During the first week I had this toothbrush, that exact thing happened. So I wrapped up my brushing right after that timer went off and crawled into bed.

Brandon, satisfied, said, “That toothbrush is the greatest thing ever made. It gave me back eight minutes of my life every night.”

Which I guess means the time I was taking to practice good dental hygiene was shaving time from his life?


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