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| My toothbrush was too gnarly to display here, so I posted this stock photo. |
When we first got married, toothbrushes were not something that Margaret and I ever put too much thought into. We would buy the Oral-B 2-pack or whatever was on sale. I would get, what we considered, the more masculine of the two colors. We never formally discussed our method of selecting toothbrush colors, it just happened. If there was a blue and a green, I'd get the blue. If there was a green and a red, I'd get the green. If there was a red and a purple, I'd get the red. You get the idea. Now that we have children, it's interesting that this same method continues without us saying anything about it. The boys select the masculine colors and the girls select the feminine colors. It just happens.
Now with seven of us in the house brushing our teeth up to three times a day, we go through a lot of toothbrushes. We usually keep a few extra packs of 'back-up' toothbrushes in the cabinet, just in case. Recently, our supply ran low and I was in need of a new toothbrush but the only color available was pink. Since I had already thrown my old toothbrush in the trash can, I had no choice but to use this one. That evening, while I was alone in the bathroom brushing my teeth, I considered my feelings toward my new pink toothbrush. Why did it bother me? I guess because it is such a personal item that is never used by anyone else, a toothbrush is like an extension of yourself. When we find a blue toothbrush left out on the sink we know that it belongs to one of the boys; and when we find a purple one on the sink, we know it belongs to one of the girls. But associating a pink toothbrush with me, the Dad—unthinkable!
On occasion, you can find a few of us brushing our teeth together huddled around the sink in one of the bathrooms. Everyone at work, gazing at each other through the reflection in the mirror as we brushed away the grime of the day. But since I've had this pink toothbrush, I've avoided these family gatherings. I felt a little uneasy about using the pink toothbrush, especially in front of my boys.
A few days later, as I was rounding up the kids for bed, I forgot about my toothbrush dilema. I loaded my pink bristles with Tom's of Maine, walked into the upstairs bathroom and joined two of my youngest at the sink. My youngest daughter, Miryam (6), just stared at the toothbrush in my hand; it was the same color as hers. My middle son, Aaron (4), who was standing on the toilet seat, laughed out loud. He could not hold back his big smile and chuckle as he pointed at my toothbrush and asked, "Are you going to brush your teeth with that one? Is that your toothbrush? It's a pink one!" I set it down on the sink and began to help him brush his teeth. I explained to him, in a matter-of-fact adult-in-charge kind of tone, the reason why I was the owner of a pink toothbrush and how it could happen to anyone; even him. He continued to chuckle as I finished him up. Miryam just watched and listened, very respectfully not saying a word. Once they were both finished, I shooed them off to bed and then brushed my own teeth. That night I could not stop thinking about how tickled Aaron was because of my pink toothbrush. Actually, I was pleased with his response.
It is a concern, I assume, with father's of older girls and younger boys, that their boys would look up to their sisters so much that they would begin to 'act' like them. On one occasion my two oldest daughters brought me their baby dolls and a baby blanket so I could wrap them up the same way that we would wrap up their new little sister, Miryam. I wrapped up Michaela's doll and then I wrapped up Maya's doll. As they cuddled their babies and walked upstairs to their bedroom, around the corner came 2-year-old Isaac. He handed me a baby doll and a blanket so I could wrap up this doll too. I remember trying to redirect his attention to his trucks or blocks but he was determined to get his baby wrapped up so he could join his sisters. So I did it for him. As I watched him climb the stairs, doing his best to hold the baby without dropping it, many thoughts came to mind. I must be working to much and not spending enough time with him. He is spending too much time with girls. He needs a brother or a male friend. Before I went into panic mode, I noticed him standing in the hallway at the top of the stairs holding his baby out in front of him, examining it. With both hands, he grabbed the baby by the ankles and began to repeatedly slam it's head against the wall. He then threw the baby and the blanket to the floor and ran into the room with the girls. At that moment I realized that spending time with his sisters was not going to change the fact that he was a boy, through and through.
I'm getting a new toothbrush, maybe a black one...
~
Now with seven of us in the house brushing our teeth up to three times a day, we go through a lot of toothbrushes. We usually keep a few extra packs of 'back-up' toothbrushes in the cabinet, just in case. Recently, our supply ran low and I was in need of a new toothbrush but the only color available was pink. Since I had already thrown my old toothbrush in the trash can, I had no choice but to use this one. That evening, while I was alone in the bathroom brushing my teeth, I considered my feelings toward my new pink toothbrush. Why did it bother me? I guess because it is such a personal item that is never used by anyone else, a toothbrush is like an extension of yourself. When we find a blue toothbrush left out on the sink we know that it belongs to one of the boys; and when we find a purple one on the sink, we know it belongs to one of the girls. But associating a pink toothbrush with me, the Dad—unthinkable!
On occasion, you can find a few of us brushing our teeth together huddled around the sink in one of the bathrooms. Everyone at work, gazing at each other through the reflection in the mirror as we brushed away the grime of the day. But since I've had this pink toothbrush, I've avoided these family gatherings. I felt a little uneasy about using the pink toothbrush, especially in front of my boys.
A few days later, as I was rounding up the kids for bed, I forgot about my toothbrush dilema. I loaded my pink bristles with Tom's of Maine, walked into the upstairs bathroom and joined two of my youngest at the sink. My youngest daughter, Miryam (6), just stared at the toothbrush in my hand; it was the same color as hers. My middle son, Aaron (4), who was standing on the toilet seat, laughed out loud. He could not hold back his big smile and chuckle as he pointed at my toothbrush and asked, "Are you going to brush your teeth with that one? Is that your toothbrush? It's a pink one!" I set it down on the sink and began to help him brush his teeth. I explained to him, in a matter-of-fact adult-in-charge kind of tone, the reason why I was the owner of a pink toothbrush and how it could happen to anyone; even him. He continued to chuckle as I finished him up. Miryam just watched and listened, very respectfully not saying a word. Once they were both finished, I shooed them off to bed and then brushed my own teeth. That night I could not stop thinking about how tickled Aaron was because of my pink toothbrush. Actually, I was pleased with his response.
It is a concern, I assume, with father's of older girls and younger boys, that their boys would look up to their sisters so much that they would begin to 'act' like them. On one occasion my two oldest daughters brought me their baby dolls and a baby blanket so I could wrap them up the same way that we would wrap up their new little sister, Miryam. I wrapped up Michaela's doll and then I wrapped up Maya's doll. As they cuddled their babies and walked upstairs to their bedroom, around the corner came 2-year-old Isaac. He handed me a baby doll and a blanket so I could wrap up this doll too. I remember trying to redirect his attention to his trucks or blocks but he was determined to get his baby wrapped up so he could join his sisters. So I did it for him. As I watched him climb the stairs, doing his best to hold the baby without dropping it, many thoughts came to mind. I must be working to much and not spending enough time with him. He is spending too much time with girls. He needs a brother or a male friend. Before I went into panic mode, I noticed him standing in the hallway at the top of the stairs holding his baby out in front of him, examining it. With both hands, he grabbed the baby by the ankles and began to repeatedly slam it's head against the wall. He then threw the baby and the blanket to the floor and ran into the room with the girls. At that moment I realized that spending time with his sisters was not going to change the fact that he was a boy, through and through.
I'm getting a new toothbrush, maybe a black one...
~
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