There are two types of people in the world: Those who find sharing toothbrushes grotesque, and those who will offer their toothbrush to a friend’s cousin’s gardener’s best friend’s babysitter.
We non-sharers grasp the realities of oral hygiene and appreciate our existence in the modern world. No one has wooden teeth anymore. On a third date, we throw our own toothbrushes in a pocket or purse just in case. “What if Francis invites me inside? Got to be prepared!” we’ll say. This is the civilized thing to do. If it’s the first date and we didn’t think we’d need a toothbrush since we were “holding out” on this one, but wake up next to them anyway, we squeeze a bit of Crest on a fingertip and go at it with makeshift gusto. We are polite and careful not to offend our new love/sex partner/person. We are dignified.
As for toothbrush sharers, you can’t necessarily spot them. On the surface they live life like anyone else. They take cream in their coffee and order their eggs scrambled. Sometimes they’ll spring for an omelet, but mainly on weekends. They watch revival films at the cemetery in the summer and wear scarves before the weather has dropped below 70 degrees. A shocking 60 percent have trampolines in their backyards. Fewer than half have tried surfing and 94 percent are in monogamous relationships.
Toothbrush-sharing couples argue that if having sex exchanges fluids and bacteria, what makes a toothbrush any different? The penis and the vagina are capable of spreading disease, arguably more so than the mouth. “What’s the big deal?” they ask while feeding Medjool dates to one another, wearing only their bed sheets and a sex-worn flush.
These people are unappreciative of all their toothbrush does for them. It goes in shiny, white, and firm-bristled and comes out a little duller and slightly yellowed with bristles splaying farther in each direction with every go-round. So why do people share toothbrushes? Purposely, willingly, gladly?
If you share a toothbrush, anything you’ve placed in your mouth within the last 12 hours will then be transferred to the mouth of the other person, who will then transfer their Skittles and English muffin remnants to your mouth in a terrifying and nauseating cycle. The Center for Disease Control and Prevention clearly states the following under Recommended Toothbrush Care: Do not share toothbrushes.
I am putting my foot down. Even if licking your girl/boyfriend’s wisdom teeth holes gives you the world’s biggest pants tent, sharing toothbrushes is never okay.