There once was a Toothbrush, not an ordinary toothbrush, but a special one. Despite living on a supermarket shelf, he had heard the stories of where the old toothbrushes went when they were no longer used to brush teeth. He had grown claustrophobic in his plastic surroundings and longed for contact, so he was delighted when a young woman in her twenties picked him up and placed him in her shopping basket. Elated at the chance to be with someone, he determined not to end up like all the other toothbrushes. He wouldn’t be thrown away before his time or face the humiliation of being used to clean tiles or kitchen appliances. He had heard about the place called‘the kitchen’. It sounded a dreadful place. But the Toothbrush didn’t worry long about that. He was too excited about going to the bathroom and meeting his new family, and being able to get out of the plastic and be held by the same loving hand everyday.
Not long after he had been picked up from the supermarket everything went dark for a period. The Toothbrush began to get worried and think about the horror stories he had heard, as it was loud and cold in the dark place he was being kept. The world seemed to move around and bump up and down. At one point he slid into another
corner of the dark place and realised he was not alone. A strong and deep voice said “Hello there little fellow!”
“Who’s that? Where am I?” The Toothbrush whispered, scared of who might reply. “Don’t worry, I’ve done this before. I’m recyclable you see. You’re the new toothbrush then? Well I’m Tesco’s Finest Recyclable Paper, 90gsm, A4 of course, brilliant white”he said in a grand voice. “Don’t worry yourself. The transportation devices can sometimes be a bit rough, but it will be over soon”.
“Oh, so are you going to the bathroom too?” asked the Toothbrush.
“Oh no” chuckled paper, “I’m heading for the office of course, I just hope this one has a recycling bin. The last one didn’t, but the green man took me back to the mill. Areyou recyclable?” The Toothbrush hesitated.
“I don’t know.”
“Ah yes,” his voice became softer, “I’ve heard what happens to you toothbrushes. Sounds nasty.” The paper sighed before regaining his previous demeanour. “Well. I hope that doesn’t happen to you, I wouldn’t like to be kept with those cleaning products. I ended up in the wrong aisle once in the shop, next to them. One of them split open. It was like the ‘Great Bleach War’ of last Christmas all over again. Bleach everywhere, sponges and dish clothes crying out in pain, horrible, just horrible. Let’s hope this one is into household product rights.”
Suddenly the noise stopped and everything was silent. Then a bright light blinded the Toothbrush. When his vision returned he saw the hands of the woman pulling his plastic cage from around him. The Toothbrush could feel the fresh air rush over him as the seal was broken, it made him feel dizzy. He was soothed by the soft hands of the woman, much softer than the rough, cold hand of the man in the factory. She put the Toothbrush in a pot by the sink with a tube of toothpaste and another toothbrush. The other toothbrush didn’t even look at him, it just sighed. Then, the woman picked up the other toothbrush and threw it into a larger pot underneath the sink. The little Toothbrush very quickly realised that this was a bin and the other toothbrush was being thrown away to slowly die with the used tissues and cotton wool buds.
When the woman left, the bathroom came alive. The other toothbrush was crying out for someone to help him. The shampoos were sobbing, the conditioner trying to console them. The conditioner was older than all the other bottles around the bath, he seemed wise and just told the bathroom that there was nothing anyone could do and the old toothbrush should get used to living in the bin and hope that the woman would not empty it for a while.
The young Toothbrush was quite happy in his new home and soon became good friends with all the other objects in the bathroom. But he was at his happiest first thing in the morning and last thing at night. Those precious two or three minutes held snug in the woman’s hand. He loved it when she sang in the shower and watching her wash her face or put on her make up in front of the mirror. He didn’t like the
cosmetics though. There were too excitable, always giggling and showing off. Except the foundation that just sat there watching the others, too shy to say anything. But the Toothbrush’s best friend was of course the toothpaste. They would stay awake all night sometimes talking about the goings on in the bathroom, and debating what
it was like outside of it. The Toothbrush told the toothpaste about his meeting with the paper and what he said about the bleach. The toothpaste tried to reassure the Toothbrush but he still had doubts about how long he would stay in the bathroom.
After a while the Toothbrush got used to his life in the bathroom. Some of the shampoo bottles left, luckily to be recycled, but the conditioner was still there. He got
used to many toilet rolls and cotton wool buds coming and going, they didn’t have a very long life span. One morning, during the teeth cleaning, he noticed that the woman was squeezing the toothpaste so tight that he was out of breath for quite a while after. The toothpaste laughed, saying it was the price of being used every day.
That week when they got the new intake from the weekly shop, there was a new tube of toothpaste sitting on the shelf with the new shampoo and toilet rolls. The new toothpaste sat on the shelf for three days before the woman opened it and put it in the pot with the Toothbrush. The old toothpaste was thrown away. He didn’t make any noise from the bin, nobody heard him cry out at all. The conditioner said it was a noble way to go. The Toothbrush just nodded and sighed, turning his head away from the new toothpaste.
