Battle lines are drawn, I am a father, he is my son, we face each other, should we arm wrestle, we stare intently, time draws on so slowly.
And this time, this battle of the Generation gap titans, it is about....brushing teeth. Should he shouldn't he. My manky teeth are veterans of a 70's where a silver lining was seen by a dentist to all things ceramic. A decade where dentists drilled with more abandon than most oil rigs and the North Sea had oil rigs in my day. And in the 70s the UK did have oil.
He may know I am right, he may secretly get the toothbrush out to save a future molar adult tooth, when I am securely out of bathroom zone, but the right to brush or not to brush is his, the right to manky teeth is his ..........and if I was so diligent in brushing, why did I have manky teeth. I am caught by sins of my youth.
I smile a black rimmed smile, welcome to my world of the root canal, my son.