Certain things have happened to my mother since I last lived with her for an extended period of time. Certain aspects of her personality now drive me crazier than ever. This could be caused by a number of factors—who the heck likes far right wing conservatives anymore, but maybe I am mourning the fact that we simply share so few things in common anymore that I don’t feel we have anything to talk about without making the other one upset. One of the features of home life which has taken a dramatic shift is the fact that my mother has become a bit, well, paranoid about certain chemicals. My grandfather loves forwarding her these emails with subject lines like: “CHINA KILLING MORE BABIES WITH POISONED PACIFIERS!!!” or: “ALL DOG FOOD FROM CHINA NOW LACED WITH CYANIDE!!!” This has resulted in my mother buying a lot of organic, local products out of fear that the Chinese are going to try and take over by killing us slowly and individually instead of just kicking our asses with their giant economy, military, and population. For most household products, this is fine (besides the little sting when I bite my tongue each and every time my mother makes a derisive comment about how much Chinese goods suck and *that* product is american, and I DIE to say how much the market would suffer if those cheap chinese goods were no longer available, and how furious at america she’d be THEN when a small toy for my little brother cost $45, but that’s another story). However, there is a line too far on this organic, local shit.
Where is the line, you ask?
TOOTHPASTE. I made the highly ill-advised decision to rely on the house’s toothpaste when I came up to visit for Christmas. Last night, I stumbled in to the bathroom late, and pulled the tube out of the medicine cabinet. “Fluoride-Free Cherry-flavored Gel, huh? This does not bode well,” thought my sleepy but still brave brain. Squeezed a bit (but not much; I’m not entirely masochistic) onto the brush, and began standard brushing procedure. I can say this: the foam production was great. However, the flavor instantly brought back memories of all my most horrible experiences at the dentist. It was the very same flavor as the goop they put on the x-ray tabs, the flavor that still haunts me and makes me nauseous at the very thought. After the initial shock of the flavor wore down a bit, I noticed something curious: my mouth was going numb. Anywhere the hippie toothpaste foam went, there was a gentle loss of sensation. And that was when I made a solemn vow to never use organic toothpaste ever, ever again. Numbness and nausea are not two words I want to associate with everyday dental care. Mother, the republican shit is one thing. But for god’s sake, woman, have some mercy: BUY CREST.
