You may think less of me after reading this.
First of all, let me begin my saying that I have lived a quiet, simple life. When I order something to eat, I rarely and only recently ask for special considerations (as in, no tomatoes.) If the food comes to me not as I ordered it, I don't think I have ever sent it back. While driving I am more likely to stop for a yellow light than speed up to go through one. I hardly ever freely offer my opinion, especially over controversial matters. I don't speed, I don't lie, and I don't stop people from cutting in line in front of me. I can see you, sitting there, smirking, thinking that I am a complete pushover, absolutely lacking in assertiveness. And you're pretty much right. (Although, there are a handful of Sears and Sears Mastercard employees that have recently discovered thanks to a fiasco involving an LG washer and dryer that when messed with over something I think is important I have steel in my backbone and iron in my voice. Yeah, that's right Sears. Don't mess with me again.)
So, smirk a little then. But I'll have you know that secretly, I am a rebel. I stick it to the man in my own small (insignificant) way. And you know what I've learned from my experience of pushing against the norm, the expected, the ordinary? It leads to root canals.
That's right. Sometimes I don't brush my teeth. Even worse, I don't often floss. Now you're disgusted. I won't tell you how often this feeling of rebellion rises up in me and causes me to go to bed with furry teeth, but it's enough that I really am going to have a root canal.
And there you have it. I can't say where the roots of my rebellion are coming from, I've always tried my best to be a nice girl and do what I was told and play nicely with others. I like being that person too. But sometimes, at night, before bed, when I'm standing in front of my sink and Devin is dutifully brushing his teeth (in the time I've known him he has skipped brushing his teeth twice, and neither time by choice. Literally.) And this feeling rises up in me, unbidden, and unwelcome, but powerful nonetheless: I don't want to brush my teeth, and you can't make me.
Then, I just go to bed. And now I'm having a root canal sometime soon.
That, I suppose, is the fruit of my rebellion.
I am ashamed of myself, mommy. You taught me better. I'm trying hard to quench this stickittothemanitis. I refuse to give in anymore to that spirit of rebellion. I solemnly vow that from now on I will always brush (and floss) my teeth.***
***Unless I am suffering from a migraine, stomachache, exhaustion, or pregnancy induced gagginess. Then, there's no telling what I'll do. So, do you think less of me?