I'm weirdly judgmental of toothbrushes

Since I got an electric toothbrush, I've become cursed with checking out other peoples'... I don't know why, but its like a nervous tick now - like the state of their toothbrush is the yard stick that all self worth is measured against.

It starts like this.

I walk in and see their toothbrush sitting there in the bathroom, and straight away, I'm warning myself not to look. I'll go to use the sink and nonchalantly just glance at the bristles - nothing else, I'll tell myself, just a glance. At first, I'll notice one or two of the bristles will be poking out a bit from the main brush - no big deal. Then I'll notice that the blue dye that is supposed to indicate its time to change the head, is faded. Very faded. Like those undies that are so comfy you just can't bear to get rid of them even though the elastic is falling out and they are over a decade old. That faded.

Next inevitably, I'll look closer at the little hole in the head of the toothbrush - you know the one, about halfway down the head which helps you rinse it out.

There'll be some yellowing inside - probably just some trapped plaque I say, maybe they are at the point of changing over the head.. "give them the benefit of the doubt" I'll say, turn back now!!! But by this stage its too late to stop myself.

I'll look at the handle.

The graveyard of old toothpaste. The sedimentary rock of toothbrushings past. Archaeologists and geologists pray for a find this rich. It looked so normal from across the room. Sitting on its shelf, under the mirror, minding it's own business and now you're up close its a total shit show. When was the last time this was cleaned ?! Does this person actually grip a handle super coated in their hardened spit and plaque each morning?! Are they french-brushing this bacteria-fest everyday in perfect contentment?!

By this stage I know I have gone too far - far too far - but I have to know the full story. Like there was an possibility of redemption, regardless I have to know.

Heaven help me, I'll have to look underneath the base.

I'll pick it up gingerly, being careful to avoid the bacteria rave happening at the top of the handle and take a peek underneath.

Jesus. The amount of mold under the average electric toothbrush is astounding. If the food ever runs out during the zombie apocalypse, I'll know the precious last resort for food (*barf*). Although I'll probably choose death.

This little ritual usually finishes with me giving the offending owner sideways glances, carefully deciding how to cut this mouth sadist out of my life.

So that's (just one of) my sad little obsession(s). I know I can't get better, but my biggest hope is that by reading this, you don't become similarly afflicted with the same sick fascination. You aren't tempted to look.

Never look. Or You'll never be able to look at your friends the same way again.