Impressed by the gleaming white teeth displayed by my daughter and my brother, I inquired:
"What is the secret of your gleaming white teeth?"
"Brosse à dents électrique, papa" and "Electric toothbrush, lad", they replied in their respective languages and at an interval of a few months.
"Electric toothbrush?" I said, adding for good measure "are you sure?"
So I lashed out on one of the cheaper contraptions available on the market, and bought two toothbrushes, one for my wife and one for me. Whether or not my teeth are more gleaming than before I shall leave to others to judge, but that is not really the point of this post. Besides, like François Mitterand, I try to keep my mouth shut as much as possible.
Those of you familiar with these devices will know that they consist of the electric "base" to which you attach the endpiece or toothbrush itself. My wife and I share the same base and attach our own toothbrush. Aware that, for hygienic reasons, users will want to be able to distinguish their brush from others, the manufacturer has thoughtfully provided a little colour band for that very purpose. Between uses, we place the two toothbrushes plus the electric base in a plastic mug near the washbasin. The only thing is that the plastic band is not immediately visible when one takes the brush out of the mug. That's no great worry, for after all the chances of picking the right one over a period of several months must work out at about fifty-fifty.
But that is the extraordinary thing. In fact, I must have picked the wrong toothbrush in about 80 to 90% of cases! It seems extraordinary but I swear that this is true. (I have this very moment just done so again.) I have even at the very last moment deliberately chosen my second choice, but it is as though fate is not to be cheated. It is my destiny to choose the wrong toothbrush just as it was the destiny of the Caliph of Baghdad's servant to meet Death in Samara and not in Baghdad.
"What is the secret of your gleaming white teeth?"
"Brosse à dents électrique, papa" and "Electric toothbrush, lad", they replied in their respective languages and at an interval of a few months.
"Electric toothbrush?" I said, adding for good measure "are you sure?"
So I lashed out on one of the cheaper contraptions available on the market, and bought two toothbrushes, one for my wife and one for me. Whether or not my teeth are more gleaming than before I shall leave to others to judge, but that is not really the point of this post. Besides, like François Mitterand, I try to keep my mouth shut as much as possible.
Those of you familiar with these devices will know that they consist of the electric "base" to which you attach the endpiece or toothbrush itself. My wife and I share the same base and attach our own toothbrush. Aware that, for hygienic reasons, users will want to be able to distinguish their brush from others, the manufacturer has thoughtfully provided a little colour band for that very purpose. Between uses, we place the two toothbrushes plus the electric base in a plastic mug near the washbasin. The only thing is that the plastic band is not immediately visible when one takes the brush out of the mug. That's no great worry, for after all the chances of picking the right one over a period of several months must work out at about fifty-fifty.
But that is the extraordinary thing. In fact, I must have picked the wrong toothbrush in about 80 to 90% of cases! It seems extraordinary but I swear that this is true. (I have this very moment just done so again.) I have even at the very last moment deliberately chosen my second choice, but it is as though fate is not to be cheated. It is my destiny to choose the wrong toothbrush just as it was the destiny of the Caliph of Baghdad's servant to meet Death in Samara and not in Baghdad.
No comments:
Post a Comment