I never thought I'd floss another person's teeth. Now I floss four sets of teeth, only one of which is mine. Flossing the boys' teeth is rather sweet. They've got these tiny little teeth, all white and new. Their mouths are soft and pink and fresh.
Flossing Fanini's teeth on the other hand is a tad unnerving. For one thing, Fanini's teeth have seen a lifetime of chewing. They are somewhat crooked, full of fillings and caps, and a color I can only describe as ochre. When I run the floss between the teeth, large chunks of the day's meal flick out from between the teeth, often landing on my face or clothes.
Right now you probably are making a kinda "gggarrg" sound, and I understand. I always try to focus on a quote from a book I read a long time ago. It said essentially that love negates disgust. At the time I read the book, I was thinking of it in more of the "sicko erotic requests" category. But now I understand it in more of a "wiping up the bodily excretions of your loved ones without gagging" kinda thing.
So I floss. And I wipe bottoms. And I fall asleep with puke in my hair. Does this make me a good person? Probably not, but I'm learning to be a more tolerant person. Certainly I can talk disgusting with the best of 'em at the Mom's Group.