Scaling Ront Blanc

Angelina club sandwich and Mont-Blanc pastry

We are terrible partners to our toothbrushes. It is a miracle of modern living that we stay together (more on this later) or that all of this is considered normal. We are the bad side of a good relationship.

What heartless lovers we are that we discard them without thought and regard them without love. We enjoy what they offer for a time, then they get old and we unceremoniously cut them from our lives. Imagine throwing someone in your life to the curb the moment they showed signs of age. We do that to our toothbrushes several times a year! In place of sentiment, we let gravity mark the end of each relationship.

This is what I thought about as I broke out a new brush for this trip. Today we landed in Paris and my toothbrush at home would have never lasted another month. (If I’ve still got one at home, does that technically make this an affair?)

See that plate of Angelina Club Sandwich and Le Mont-Blanc meringue with whipped Chantilly and chestnut vermicelli from Angelina? My toothbrush took care of the stragglers in my teeth. Despite us forcing them into this relationship, these instruments of hygiene are always cleaning up our mess.

So to the next toothbrush I fling into the bin:

It’s not you, it’s me.