You and I brush our teeth together in the morning. Usually you go first with me doing most f the scrubbing for you and then you doing a couple scrubs by yourself so you slowly get the hang of it. Then as you are finishing up, I start. Usually you stick around and watch, getting pointers or learning from my technique.
Today, as I had a mouthful of paste and brush which had worked itself to an unusually large foam amount, you said, "Uh oh, gotta go poopie!" Not what. I wanted to hear at 7:30 in the morning. Before I could clear my mouth and object and suggest you use the upstairs bathroom, your pants were down and you were on the pot. The smell that followed cut through the mint of the toothpaste like a knife through butter. We may have to work on and instill a healthy level of modesty and privacy and respect for other people's nasal cavaties with regards to your bathroom etiquette.
Sincerely with love from your dad,
Leo
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