“The sign wasn’t big enough.”

When you have four kids, you tend to take shortcuts from time to time. Selflessly, most of those shortcuts involve you not working out or not taking showers, but when you are constantly double, triple and even quadruple teamed, you resort to tactics out of sheer desperation.

 

Once you accept that your son will not brush his teeth unless he is reminded incessantly or he freaks out because a whole row of teeth falls out, you are on the path to recovery. I am waiting for the day he smiles and little green men jump out of his mouth. Panicked and scared little green men, at that.

 

After repeating the exchange over weeks, an exchange that could have been more effectively delivered by cyborg (just after he got into bed), life gets testy. 

 

Parent - “Did you brush your teeth?”

 

Son’s hand hits his own forehead in an effort to shake his brain for failing to remind him.

 

Yes, he was surprised after this conversation. Shocked, in fact, that he had to do something he has done (mostly forcibly) for the last 8 years, every day. It snuck up on him, it caught him off guard, it stunned him into a dark place where he had to slap his own face. This, of course, will lead to major adjustments, we opine. We, as parents, will not have to remind him ever again because of the embarrassment he felt. Now that he has thought about it, he deeply and utterly fears little green men. Change is coming.

 

Out of genuine concern for his safety, my wife then reached a tipping point. She weighed reminding him every night against the concussion he would eventually get from hitting his own head in self-flagellation. So how could she remind him, without the element of surprise? Can we lead him gently to it? Can we coax him before he is lying in bed so that he does not have to get out from under the covers?

 

Yes, we can.

 

She decides to create a sign, a poster to remind him. He sleeps on the bottom of a bunk bed, so the bottom of the top bunk is a perfect spot for signage. She writes up the complicated and complex set of instructions and sticks it right where he is looking every night as he stays up to ridiculous hours of the night. 

 

“Brush Your Teeth.”

 

Three words. That’s it. Nothing controversial. 

 

Then after feeling assured that he has been brushing his teeth for a week under this watchful reminder from parental governance, we bothered to ask him if he brushed his teeth that night.

 

Why bother to ask, right? I mean, that is silly. We could just point to the sign or we could safely assume he could not have possibly forgotten since he is staring at the billboard every night as he contemplates how Pokemon could win a seat in Congress. 

 

We ask anyway.

 

The head-slap resumes. “I forgot,” he replies.

 

Wait, so it cannot be that he forgot to brush his teeth. The National landmark-sized sign would make that impossible. Maybe you chose not to brush them after being alerted. It was active choice, it was defiance, it was not forgetting anything. Unless….

 

“I forgot……” how to read.

 

Yes, that must be it. He has been learning Japanese and the English alphabet got jumbled for a moment of temporary illiteracy. There must be something in the self-defense Federal code. Temporary illiteracy.

 

But to our exasperation, he had an explanation that surpassed our wildest imagination as we were set up to be at fault. We became the fall guy in all of this unhygienic chaos. 

 

He stated quite clearly. “The sign wasn’t big enough.”

 

Yes, that must be it. He unearthed the problem all along. The sign is liable. Hence so is the sign-maker. Your honor, “I did not brush my teeth for 8 years without being reminded because the sign made to remind me was too small. The font was displeasing and according to code, it has to flash intermittently every 6 seconds using an inert gas like neon or xenon.” 

 

When all is said and done, we will have to just remind him on a daily basis and hope for the best. After all, there are three other kids whose teeth are in jeopardy, especially those of our two-year-old who thinks toothpaste is candy. We have bigger fish to fry.

 

Until then, the signage will remain on the slat of his upper bunk. A remnant of creative energy and direct messaging, rendered useless due to scapegoating. Dirty teeth, bad signs. Maybe we should have just drawn a picture.

 

- Doug Glanville

When you have four kids, you tend to take shortcuts from time to time. Selflessly, most of those shortcuts involve you not working out or not taking showers, but when you are constantly double, triple and even quadruple teamed, you resort to tactics out of sheer desperation.

 

Once you accept that your son will not brush his teeth unless he is reminded incessantly or he freaks out because a whole row of teeth falls out, you are on the path to recovery. I am waiting for the day he smiles and little green men jump out of his mouth. Panicked and scared little green men, at that.

 

After repeating the exchange over weeks, an exchange that could have been more effectively delivered by cyborg (just after he got into bed), life gets testy. 

 

Parent - “Did you brush your teeth?”

 

Son’s hand hits his own forehead in an effort to shake his brain for failing to remind him.

 

Yes, he was surprised after this conversation. Shocked, in fact, that he had to do something he has done (mostly forcibly) for the last 8 years, every day. It snuck up on him, it caught him off guard, it stunned him into a dark place where he had to slap his own face. This, of course, will lead to major adjustments, we opine. We, as parents, will not have to remind him ever again because of the embarrassment he felt. Now that he has thought about it, he deeply and utterly fears little green men. Change is coming.

 

Out of genuine concern for his safety, my wife then reached a tipping point. She weighed reminding him every night against the concussion he would eventually get from hitting his own head in self-flagellation. So how could she remind him, without the element of surprise? Can we lead him gently to it? Can we coax him before he is lying in bed so that he does not have to get out from under the covers?

 

Yes, we can.

 

She decides to create a sign, a poster to remind him. He sleeps on the bottom of a bunk bed, so the bottom of the top bunk is a perfect spot for signage. She writes up the complicated and complex set of instructions and sticks it right where he is looking every night as he stays up to ridiculous hours of the night. 

 

“Brush Your Teeth.”

 

Three words. That’s it. Nothing controversial. 

 

Then after feeling assured that he has been brushing his teeth for a week under this watchful reminder from parental governance, we bothered to ask him if he brushed his teeth that night.

 

Why bother to ask, right? I mean, that is silly. We could just point to the sign or we could safely assume he could not have possibly forgotten since he is staring at the billboard every night as he contemplates how Pokemon could win a seat in Congress. 

 

We ask anyway.

 

The head-slap resumes. “I forgot,” he replies.

 

Wait, so it cannot be that he forgot to brush his teeth. The National landmark-sized sign would make that impossible. Maybe you chose not to brush them after being alerted. It was active choice, it was defiance, it was not forgetting anything. Unless….

 

“I forgot……” how to read.

 

Yes, that must be it. He has been learning Japanese and the English alphabet got jumbled for a moment of temporary illiteracy. There must be something in the self-defense Federal code. Temporary illiteracy.

 

But to our exasperation, he had an explanation that surpassed our wildest imagination as we were set up to be at fault. We became the fall guy in all of this unhygienic chaos. 

 

He stated quite clearly. “The sign wasn’t big enough.”

 

Yes, that must be it. He unearthed the problem all along. The sign is liable. Hence so is the sign-maker. Your honor, “I did not brush my teeth for 8 years without being reminded because the sign made to remind me was too small. The font was displeasing and according to code, it has to flash intermittently every 6 seconds using an inert gas like neon or xenon.” 

 

When all is said and done, we will have to just remind him on a daily basis and hope for the best. After all, there are three other kids whose teeth are in jeopardy, especially those of our two-year-old who thinks toothpaste is candy. We have bigger fish to fry.

 

Until then, the signage will remain on the slat of his upper bunk. A remnant of creative energy and direct messaging, rendered useless due to scapegoating. Dirty teeth, bad signs. Maybe we should have just drawn a picture.

 

- Doug Glanville