Mr. Crest and Proper Tooth Brush Holding by Sri Swami Bobo

When I was six, my Father procured me a job at the local Crest factory as a toothbrush holder. Dad had dreamed of me acquiring the prestigious and highly coveted post of Mr. Crest, a uniform and title he had held proudly held from the age of four until, as he would often tell the family, “some little punk red headed tweerp backstabbed me during my ninth summer and stole the greatest job I’ve ever had right out from under me,” but due to my coming down with a vicious case of poison oak my neighbor Stevie Jones won the gig. Dad was not happy and he would often regale my Mother with his thoughts on my current work drive: “No kid of mine is gonna waste his days runnin and playin with those dirty mutts in our neighborhood. He’s sick. Give me a break. If he’d stop scratching himself he might become something in this world. Please, Madge, smiling and laughing can only be allowed after one has brushed and flossed for 10 minutes. The kid is a lazy bum. He sits in the chicken coop all morning playing with rocks and staring at this one bird imitating its head movements. I think the kid may be as soft in the brain as a tube of toothpaste.” He was a good Dad. I still thank Daddy each night for instilling such a good work ethic in me at an early age.

It was my job to teach folks how to properly hold a toothbrush. Gently wrap all four of your fingers around the base of the handle. Be careful not to grab the brush to tightly or to loose. An overly aggressive grip and the wrist will fatigue, a grip to soft and the brushes bristles will not have enough force to clean the plaque from one’s teeth. With a slow upward thrust, bring the toothbrush from waist level up past the chest and toward the mouth. When the brushes bristles are six inches from the mouth, lips pursed about four inches wide, point the elbow at a right angle and begin to move the brush toward your teeth. DO NOT DRAW THE MOUTH TOWARD THE BRUSH! At this moment, excited about the prospect of bringing the toothpaste into the teeth, rookie brushers will rush and grip the base with to much force, causing the bristles to tilt and the golden toothpaste to drip onto one’s chest and clothing. Slow down. Take your time.

I would love to say that I was able to continue my instruction, taking the journey with the individual brusher to the penultimate point of the toothbrush entering the mouth, but that task was the exclusive purview of Mr. Crest. Only my Dad and Stevie Jones know those secrets.

Please consult Monks and a Youth by John Gaydos.