toothbug

Okay, i live in the Ghetto.
I admit it.
Last night i met an evil little visitor. This is the 2nd cock-a-roach i have met in 2 years, and last night my creepy crawly friend was creepily crawling upon my toothbrush.
YES.
The sanctity of my toothbrush has been forever desicrated.
I killed him violently and loudly with much banging of bathroom items. He met an unfavorable end, i am proud to say.
Alas, the toothbrush is gone away as well, perfectly broken in bristles notwithstanding.

When i was young we sang this song (below), the toothbugs (as was explained to me by my mother) were tarter and tooth decay, and general smellyness that we use our toothbrush to eliminate. Toothbugs were NOT something that loitered upon one's brush, waiting for the fun suprise of potential oral hygene thwarted.

“I do not want to clean my teeth, a little boy once cried,
“I’ve washed my face and combed my hair, Thats quite enough,” he sighed;
Some tooth bugs hiding in his mouth, Began to dance in glee;
“At last we’ve found a home,” they cried, “We do not have to flee!”

“This boy has such a nice warm mouth, We’ll linger here all night;
His teeth are filled with bits of food, We’ll eat with all our might!”
The small boy heard their shout of glee, “Get out of there,” he cried;
He grabbed his brush and scrubbed and scrubbed ‘Till every tooth bug died.

PS. The lyrics of my youth were changed to accomidate our pacifist lifestyle, i think in our version the toothbugs were indignant and left the premisis of our mouths, off to find some other poor brat who refused to brush his/her teeth. A violent death, even for toothbugs, was to sad to sing of. Thanks, mum.