August 20, 2022 by Amy

My Major Award

My husband and I are competitive with each other, to say the least. We trash talk and we swagger when we win. I won’t play him in pool, ping pong, or pickleball, mainly because he has perfected the art of “putting a little English on it” and I have yet to crack the code on how to defend against that. He refuses to play Wii Fencing with me, intimidated by my “shock and awe” tactics which consist entirely of becoming the Tasmanian Devil from Looney Tunes cartoon lore. We’ve raced cars, go-carts, and remote-control vehicles. He out-runs me and I out-yoga him. He usually beats me on the mini-golf greens, but I’ve improved my game in the past few years and have won a few times. (Turns out that when I’ve had a few glasses before and during putt-putt, I stop caring, relax, and turn into Tiger Freakin’ Woods. Ironic, no?) Competition is an ongoing thing in our house. Our child has been drawn in, competing regularly with her father in rock-paper-scissors with the defeated having to hear “You went down in a blaze of glory” upon their loss. Because RPS, as we all know, is absolutely filled with glory.

Perhaps the strangest way we compete is with our biannual dentist visits, the metrics of which include “time spent cleaning” and “cavity count.” We are very evenly matched here, which is probably why this has grown to an epic battle that the dentist and his staff find amusing. “The dentist told me I’m his favorite patient.” “Yeah, well the dentist told me that I’m textbook on oral hygiene.” Each time we visit now, we beg the hygienist for new accolades that we can take home and flaunt.

We use identical electric toothbrushes (I first wrote “we use the same electric toothbrush,” realized how disgusting that sounds, threw up in my mouth, and rephrased), and we brush at least twice a day. We use the same toothpaste, Colgate, only because I switched from Crest after we got married and I realized it was stupid to stock two different kinds…and he refused to change. He flosses only when he feels something stuck that he can’t get out (which is to say never because the man can sport an entire head of lettuce between his incisors and cuspids* and never feel it) and I ricochet between daily flossing and forgetting to until a week before my next appointment. We were both blessed with what my mother called “hard teeth,” which seem impervious to decay. Maybe this is because growing up, we drank lots of milk and water and hardly any juice or soda. Maybe it’s a genetic thing. My dad has good teeth and my mom struggled with hers her entire life. (Thanks for the chompers, Dad! They totally make up for the receded hairline you also gave me.) What I’m saying is, the playing field of the dentist’s office is level.

My last visit to the dentist, which happened earlier this week, resulted in a new high. A clear and decisive victory. First of all, the dentist himself did my cleaning. The office is down a hygienist and he’s jumping in to help ease the work flow. “They gave him the easy one,” I thought as I settled into the chair. He peered into my mouth with his tiny mirror and miniature pickaxe. “Oh, they gave me the easy one,” he said. I made a mental note to save this quote to share with M later. And I didn’t even have to plant the seed with the dentist to say it. Cha-ching!

We made it through the cleaning in record time: 20 minutes with x-rays, and I launched into my usual quest to get more ammo. “Pretty good, huh, Doc? Would you say, ‘outstanding?’” He laughed, and one of the hygienists said, “You have to give her something to take home. She and Michael are super competitive.” With that another hygienist said the sweetest words ever: “Hey, don’t we have some certificates somewhere?” Yes. Hardware. Exactly what has been missing from this particular competition. My head instantly filled with images of gold-flaked papyrus embossed with the seal of the dentist. The receptionist pulled out a piece of copy paper with Mickey and Minnie Mouse that bannered, “All-Star Brusher Award.”

I’ll take it.

Minutes later, with my next six-month appointment made and the completed certificate tucked safely into my backpack (next to the laptop, mind you, so it wouldn’t get messed up), I was on my way. And I was thrilled, because he’s never brought anything home from the dentist except those little samples of toothbrushes, floss, and the nasty-tasting toothpaste.

Of course I immediately snapped a photo of it on my desk at work and texted it to the family. Zoe laughed at it. M stayed silent. I knew he was brooding in his office at home, plotting his next tactic in the war. Or he was busy with a ton of meetings, but whatever.

After I arrived home later, he pointed to it (naturally I had placed it prominently on the counter) and said, “That’s hilarious.” I think he’s just trying to deflect his true feelings, that sense of dismay that I had handily bested him. I’ve been working on ways to bring it up now and then. “Hey, can you help me pick out a frame on Amazon?” “Sure. What for?” “For my Major Award.” (Yes, I pick it up and flourish it again with the words “major award.”) Reader, he refused to help me select a frame.

It occurs to me, as I gaze upon my Major Award, that Mickey and Minnie aren’t exactly the best spokespeople (spokesmice?) for good oral hygiene. They don’t even have teeth, for crying out loud. I Googled it. There are an almost infinite number of photos of these two rodents online, in most of which they are gleefully grinning, and there’s nary a tooth in sight.

It’s almost like asking Jaws from Moonraker to be the spokesperson for Oral-B.

If you’re going to choose a Disney cartoon character to represent regular brushing and flossing, you’d have to go with the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland. That dude is always showing off his pearly whites. They’re the last thing you see as he disappears from sight, and they’re perfect. Clearly a phenomenal model of exemplary oral hygiene. Expanding our universe, other optimal candidates would be Mike Wazowski from Pixar’s Monsters, Inc. and the aforementioned Tasmanian Devil from Looney Tunes. To a lesser degree, one might consider Bugs Bunny, Goofy, and Spongebob Squarepants, who each sport two rather prominent teeth that seem to be free of plaque and stains.

All I’m asking is that a little thoughtfulness go into designing awards that people care about, bring home, and use to taunt their spouses. For the rest of you, remember to brush and floss and avoid consuming sugary drinks. As Sam from The West Wing (who admits he is “nuts for dental hygiene”) says, “Your teeth are the best friends you got, CJ. Take care of them and they’ll take care of you.”

*Yeah, I know the names of teeth. I’m not in this to lose, people.

Bonus content

A little tip from me to you: do not Google “actors without teeth.” It’s horrifying. I learned this the hard way. See what I endure while researching to write these things for you?

#blog#daily life#musings#personal essay