Notes from Maine - 2025/02/23

I’m counting down to an unintentional taste test. Maybe “counting down” isn’t the right expression to use since I have no idea when it will happen, but it sounds more dramatic than saying, “I’m expecting to have an unintentional taste test at some point in the future.”

This reminds me of unintentional sushi. Decades ago, when I lived with my grandmother, she got a little loose with the food safety protocols near the end. I might check the oven and see that she was cooking pork chops in their plastic and styrofoam packaging. Or there might be a piece of chicken “thawing” in the sink for a day or two before she tried to cook it. Eventually, we had to gently move her away from cooking duties. Sometimes I would cook. Sometimes my father would take over. One night I came home from work and saw some leftover fried fish in the refrigerator. I zapped it for a few seconds just to take away the chill and then made a sandwich.

The fish was raw.

It was one of those frozen fish sticks that my grandmother had left out all day. Instead of tossing it, someone had put it in the refrigerator, and that’s where I found it. Weary from a long day at work, it had looked cooked to me. That was my “unintentional sushi” experience. Believe it or not, I think my unintentional taste test is going to be even worse.

On the right, I have Crest 3D White Stain Eraser, Icy Clean Mint. Since I was a little kid, I’ve always used Crest. It’s not like it was my choice—that’s what was provided. I would be on one side of the sink (on a stool at first, and then later tall enough to reach without the stool), and my sister was on the other side. I used the cold water tap and she used the hot. We both used Crest and brushed from side to side most of the time even though we were told to brush up and down. It was too much work to brush molars up and down, so I ignored that part of the instructions. I still would except now I have an electric tooth brush. When our parents got a water pick, we were ecstatic for the chance to try it. I hated it—not fun at all.

So, Crest on the right. On the left, I have Petsmile Professional Pet Toothpaste, London Broil Flavor. That paste is grayish-tan and doesn’t foam at all when I brush Albert’s teeth. Albert is a dog, by the way. After his dental cleaning, they said his teeth needed to be brushed every day. Every dog I’ve known always had perfect teeth with no effort on my part. Fortunately, Albert grew accustomed to the brushing very quickly, so it’s not a hassle. We’ll see at the end of this year if the brushing has produced results. The whole thing might be an elaborate prank by the VOHC (Veterinary Oral Health Council).

My tube of Crest and Albert’s tube of Petsmile look remarkably similar. Both stand up on their cap. Both are indigo colored. I keep mine on the right and Albert’s on the left, but sometimes I accidentally put his on the right on mine on the left. I’ve uncapped Albert’s paste a few times while holding my toothbrush. 

Why not keep them at different sinks? There’s a sink in the laundry room. I could keep Albert’s brush and paste there. It just doesn’t fit my routine. He goes out, comes in, gets a bone, has a drink, and then I brush his teeth before I put on his pajamas and his sleeping cap. By the time he’s ready for his teeth cleaning I’m already down the hall, so that’s where I keep his toothpaste. I can’t imagine having to walk ten paces back to the laundry room. I also can’t imagine what London Broil Flavor toothpaste tastes like. A shudder just went through me at the thought.

In the very near future I will move Albert’s toothbrush and paste. I’m hoping that I remember to do it before I have an unintentional taste test. Meanwhile, what keeps me awake at night is the idea that a veterinarian will tell me that one of the horses needs their teeth brushed daily (or some other worse hygiene activity that I don’t care to ponder). I can imagine trying to wrestle Earl (Shire horse) while I’m holding a giant brush loaded with HorseSmart Wild Oats and Alfalfa Scented Dentifrice. The front teeth would be no problem, but those molars are way back in there. Earl’s dentist wears a helmet with a miner’s lamp when he works on his teeth. I might lose a finger or a whole hand if I’m tasked with brushing his teeth.