Ah, another long day is almost done. We are all home from school/work, we have eaten one of the six meals on our standard rotation and (after a battle) reading has been done.
The kids are clean, the dog has been fed and there is now just a teeny tiny obstacle to overcome before my wife and I can vegetate on the sofa for an hour or two before the cycle starts again.
Did I say teeny tiny?? What i mean is a fight of biblical proportions. A contest of wills unlike no other, where we the parents have to convince her the six year old, to undertake the Herculean task of brushing her teeth.
“OK kids, time to brush your teeth” we say. The ten year old obediently heaves his carcass off the sofa and goes upstairs, albeit whilst making a cacophony of strange noises and still carrying his tablet but still, soon enough overly loud tooth brushing noises start to emanate from the bathroom.
Whilst this is going on, the six year old has dramatically collapsed onto the floor, all of her tendons seemingly cut by an ethereal stink demon who is determined to deny her the benefits of oral hygiene and fresh breath.
Suddenly she is too tired to brush her teeth, she doesn’t like the taste of the toothpaste, her tummy hurts, she needs a snack and she has already brushed her teeth (yesterday).
The negotiations begin. My wife is much calmer than I. Back and forth we go, we try bribery, threats, cold hard logic but to no avail. This is my moment, my time to shine. I stand, ready to carry her upstairs by her ankles and suddenly, a miracle occurs. With a final squeal of defiance, the six year old stomps her way upstairs, sprays toothpaste all over the mirror, bath mat, toilet and her toothbrush and laboriously cleans her teeth under the proviso that we set a timer for not a second more than two minutes.
I wander upstairs to check on the progress, she is having the time of her life. There is singing, spinning, spraying, jumping and joy.
After what feels like an eternity, the deed is done. I'm not sure how clean her teeth are, but at this point I'm taking the situation as win. The child bounces off back down the stairs for cartwheels, snacks, an argument with her brother and then finally bed.
I sigh, and slowly start to clean up the toothpaste. After all, the same battle tomorrow will require a fresh canvas!
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