Bad breath is one of the worst things in the world ever. Have you ever had a conversation with someone who you knows is important and you really should be listening, yet all you can think of is how bad their breath smells?
Halitosis is a massive fear of mine (seamlessly linking from yesterday’s post about the dentist!) and I think it stems from my sisters weird obsession with toothpaste, and the fact that I had braces as a teenager. There was nothing worse than the fear that you had food stuck between the train tracks, or the crushing realisation that you had been having a conversation with someone and there was a bit of your sandwich wedged in the gap. Horror.
I remember going for a garden centre Saturday morning brunch with my mum a few years ago. I chose soup (go me, avoiding all the fantastic looking cakes!) and opted for a chunky roll with poppy seeds. I ate the soup and went back to talk to the very good-looking man working on the counter. All good. Can you see where this is going? I got back into the car and adjusted the rear view mirror and noticed that between each and every tooth was a poppy-seed. “MUM!!” I exclaimed “Why didn’t you tell me???!!” she claimed she hadn’t noticed, while sniggering into her scarf. Good joke Mother. Revenge is a dish best served cold!
My sister is the most mental toothpaste addict I know. Granted, you don’t get much bang for your buck this one; they are reclusive and not open about their addiction. My sister, when asked what she wants for Christmas is often known to ask for a new toothpaste that she has seen on the TV. She is nothing if not a sucker for advertising, and loves the thought of the bubbles freshening her breath of making her teeth sparkle. That said, she has the whitest, straightest teeth I have ever seen (although claims to have tried to force a gap between her front teeth as a child so she could have braces like me, God love her) and has never had a filling or any dental work. She hasn’t even been asked to see the hygienist as a kid, and that’s practically unheard of.
I put it down to her interesting mouth grooming routine. She selects a song on her iPod, sets it to play and then brushes her teeth till it has finished. And believe me, that seems like an awful long time. For about four months we regularly heard McFly in the morning and evening as she merrily brushes away.
But I always have the fear that my breath smells. Can I just reassure you that it really doesn’t, but that doesn’t stop the fear from creeping up. Bad taste in mouth? Breath must smell like I’ve been dining on compost.
Do you have an irrational body fear?