One Tube of Toothpaste
It has come to my attention today that, for some time now, Tim and I have been using the same toothpaste.
This may not seem shocking to most of you, as it would seem relatively normal for two people, married to each other and living together, to use the same toothpaste. However, in a desperate attempt to retain my individuality – and pearly white teeth – when we moved in together, I insisted on continuing to use my super awesome (and super expensive) whitening toothpaste while Tim would only use his healthy and responsible tarter control toothpaste. So, for a while there, I would buy my own toothpaste when mine ran out, and he would buy his.
This morning, however, as I groggily smeared a blue blob on the edge of my toothbrush, I was suddenly forced into full wakefulness with the realization that there was only one tube of toothpaste in the drawer, and I have been using Tim’s toothpaste for at least the past six months.
In all likelihood, this is just a reflection of the fact that I have been ridiculously busy – and broke – lately and, therefore, have not had the time or money to go buy my own toothpaste at the store when there is always a perfectly good tube of toothpaste in the bathroom. It’s also just an added bonus that my tarter is, in fact, controlled.
However, I do take this as a sign of security and maturity on my part. Think of it: I was so worried about losing my identity that I refused to switch toothpastes. This is the height of ridiculousness. Seriously, what does toothpaste have to do with identity? NOTHING. Upon meeting you, people don’t ask, “So are you a Colgate or a Crest kind of girl?” No, they ask about your life and your job and your family. No one actually cares what kind of toothpaste you use. But losing myself in marriage scared me so much I felt I had to hang on to every little thing that was once mine. And, in a classic example of treating the symptoms and not the disease itself, that meant keeping my toothpaste.
But, no more. I have officially converted to Tim’s responsible toothpaste. In fact, you could now call it our toothpaste.
It has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?
Great post! And even though it might seem ridiculous, I understand the inpulse — even after my partner and I have been together for more than 30 years. But yes, “our” is pretty sweet.
Veronique –
Thanks! I’m glad someone else understands the impulse. 🙂 Did you have a weird/silly thing you hung on to?
I don’t know if this is about retaining identity, but we have always each done our own laundry. Still. I think that’s just because we know our own clothes (and any special needs) best. But really, it’s kind of silly.
We’ve always been kind of a union of independent entities. 🙂 If we had had children, I bet that would have changed a lot.
I know a lot of people who do laundry separately, but I have always thought that maybe this had something to do with controlling your wardrobe. Tim folds his own laundry, even though we wash clothes together. But that’s mostly because I caught him re-folding what I had folded because he wanted it done differently once. Since then, he’s on his own. 😉
Joe and I use the same brand (Tom’s of Maine), but different flavors (he likes Spearmint, I like Peppermint). We shared one tube on our recent vacation, and I survived, but ugh…I just like having my own stuff. I agree that it’s not a point to stand your ground in marriage though. 😉 Nice post!