Oliver has teeth now. Six or seven of them to be exact. As a result, we have to brush them. He has a love / hate relationship with brushing his teeth. On the one hand, he loves the idea of this new toy and the taste of the toothpaste (Fruity!), however he hates the actual activity of brushing his teeth. He’d much rather prefer to just stick the brush in his mouth and suck the toothpaste off. Don’t worry, it’s fluoride free for just that reason.

Anyway, Monica started singing when we first started brushing his teeth. I had no idea what this tune was at first. She had to tell me. It’s this little bit from Grease. I’ve seen the movie once and only remember a pre-Scientology John Travolta. Not this part.

 

This song is sung pretty much every time we brush Oliver’s teeth now.  I’m even doing it when it’s just me and him.  It got to the point where I was cleaning the bathroom and scrubbing the toilet while singing “Brusha! Brusha! Brusha!”  It should also be noted that I have no idea what the rest of the words are of the song.  “Try the new bytano”?  No clue.

 

The routine during the week now includes Oliver and I brushing our teeth together.  I get him settled on the counter in the bathroom, facing the mirror because he loves to look at himself.  (He’s his mother’s son.)  Then I get his toothbrush together and try to coax him into letting me brush his teeth a bit.  This involves me opening my mouth really wide and hoping that he mimics me.  This works at first but the moment I stick the brush in there and try to scrub away, he pushes at it with his tongue and gets upset.  Ultimately, I have to kind of hold his head steady and get in there which makes him cry.  Once I get enough scrubs in, I hand him the brush to finish off the rest of the toothpaste.  As mentioned previously, this really just means that he sucks on the brush.  He also drools a lot.

 

This morning was a little different in that he was watching me like a hawk.  The initial process was followed like normal and then I brushed my teeth while he played with his brush.  I finish up and rinse and spit.  Oliver watched me do this right next to him.  Then he turned, looked at himself in the mirror…and spit all over it.

 

The aftermath.

The aftermath.

 

I guess I should be happy that he’s paying that much attention to understand what I’m doing, but now I have to clean this up.  Thanks kiddo.

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