It started with elephants. Tiny elephants dashing across her little teeth. Then there were the giraffes and the wildebeests and the gnus. I’d imagine we’ll spot a monkey in there before too long.
That’s right. There’s a safari in my daughter’s mouth. And there’s only one way to get those pesky animals out of there: With a toothbrush.
For a brief and glorious period, having a shiny new toothbrush was incentive enough to get Poppy to brush her teeth. Once that was old, though, it turned into a great and terrible fight every morning. (She brushes her teeth at night, too. But bedtime is Daddy time. And Daddy doesn’t need gimmicks, apparently.)
I think I must’ve read about this trick somewhere else, and I’m so glad it came back to me one morning while Pi had her little hand pressed against her mouth. Because I was getting really tired of prying it away to brush her teeth. She’s been a more-than-willing tooth-brusher since that first morning that I said, “What about the elephants? How will we get the elephants off of your teeth?!” It’s a nice change. And I hope it keeps working for me for a good, long time.
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