The Battle for Superiority...Through Toothpaste.

I walk into the bathroom and go about readying myself for bed. Part of this routine includes brushing my teeth. I pick up my toothbrush and make to reach for the toothpaste, but stop as the tube appears practically empty. I check the drawer and find that there is a new one, so I place it on the bathroom counter. Suddenly, inexplicably, I start to think about how it always seems to be me who does these changeovers and other chore-type duties. So I leave the new box unopened and use the old tube, just managing to squeeze out a sufficient amount of toothpaste. ‘Let him do it for once’, I thought, referring to my lazy younger brother. And with this decision began a strange type of war that only one of the sides was aware of – a war that I was determined to win.

The battle lasted a lot longer than I expected; apparently I’d underestimated my adversary’s sheer laziness. It wasn’t long before I became confused. That he’d rather squeeze out the tiny amount of toothpaste remaining (which required quite an effort) than simply open the new one and accomplish his goal much more quickly and easily, baffled me. Did he have some kind of aversion to opening new things? Surely not. I knew he didn’t have issues with waste, because frugality was definitely not part of his personality.
Soon I began to think that maybe he was in on this war, too, and that maybe he had been waging battle against me for a long, long time; possibly since birth. Then I thought no – he doesn’t have that kind of foresight or commitment. Or did he? Maybe he was smarter than I had given him credit for and he’d been playing me all along.

Day three drew upon us. It took me about 30 – 40 seconds to retrieve a satisfactory amount of toothpaste in the morning, and I felt that it would be physically impossible to get any more from it. But that night I walked into the bathroom and, glancing anxiously at the sink, saw the still unopened new box of toothpaste lying on the counter. I didn’t get it, and I was starting to grow despondent. I decided to make one last go of it, so I mashed the tube as much as I could, and managed to get something out of it. I brushed my teeth resolutely, and plodded off to bed.

To my sheer delight, the morning of day four brought with it sweet, sweet victory. My calculating brother had finally given in, and although he left the old toothpaste and the new box lying there and didn’t put them in the bin, I didn’t care because I had emerged victorious! It was a good day for me. The war had ended, and even if he didn’t know that he lost (or that he was part of it in the first place), in my mind I had won.

Looking back, I’m not sure if it was worth the effort, but it was just one of those things that your mind creates and you just continue along with unquestioningly. Whether or not my brother learnt anything wasn’t really important to me I don’t think. It was just a strange way of keeping me entertained while I was doing fairly boring, routine things.

* This story and some of my thoughts are part real and part fiction… I’m not that insane!