The Talk

I first got The Talk when I was probably around eight. Some might think it's early, some might think it's late. I had hoped to put it off for as long as I could. I most recently got The Talk about a week ago. While reclining and having strangers put things in my mouth. I get The Talk about twice a year: the one about how brushing just isn't enough and that I need to be flossing more. Ideally three times per day and every time I think about eating popcorn.

I hate that talk. It's always the same, whether I've flossed daily or every other day or whatever. I'm convinced that it doesn't matter what you do, you get the talk anyway. It's usually brought about by a mildly clumsy person with pokey tools. They make holes in your gums (instead of trying to not poke holes in you), notice that you bleed (as I would if you poke holes in my arm or my leg or ear) and then give you the talk while your mouth is full. They wait until you can't comment because they would get a talk about how not to poke repeated holes in my gums.

I have flossed diligently. I deserve some coffee and I will eat popcorn in the forseeable future.

The moral of today's story: sadly, pillows don't always turn out well after a washer/dryer ride.

An Erinku:
laundry, clean
overflowing bin
patient for
folding