I pretty much never brushed my teeth as a kid. If I was trying to be be smart or prove a point then I would say it was out of defiance or part of some sort of social experiment or something. It wasn’t though, the truth is that I just never cared enough about the inside of my mouth.
Somewhere near my early teens it became more than that though, the apathy wouldn’t let me brush my teeth and in fact I would go to great lengths to appear as if I had brushed my fading pearlies. I would wet my toothbrush, I would squeeze a bit of toothpaste out of the tube and put it straight down the sink, I would even eat a little bit so my breath was all minty fresh like. My deception knew no bounds.
Once, while camping in Silverdale (lovely place in the Lakes with good caves, long beaches and a metric fuck-ton of jellyfish), I went for my morning anti-wash taking extra care not to accidentally (no pun intended, for once) brush my teeth. When I returned back to the camp site, I was quizzed by my Dad as to whether I had done my toothy duty or not. Now, you are aware I hadn’t even so much as rinsed them but my dear old Dad wasn’t privy to this information and me being the precocious pre-teen I was, I decided to lie. I initially said that I had in fact brushed my teeth at the shower hut like a good little boy but Dad was clever, he had this trumped. In his back pocket lay the key to my dishonesty in the form of my green scaly dinosaur toothbrush. Not one to accept defeat, I began weaving a web of lies so tight Dad had to believe them. I told a tale of a kindly old man who had let me borrow his spare toothbrush and another chap who allowed me to use his toothpaste and how I couldn’t introduce them to my Pops because, unfortunately, they were both leaving the site straight after wash time. I literally thought this was foolproof, I thought I had him beat. It turns out he knew I was lying, I’ll never know how he knew but he fucking did. The sly old fox.
Anyway, I am 24 and my teeth a fucking disgrace. At least I only have myself to blame.