I have, for the past few years, joined the lament of parents the world over of trying to persuade my child that they need to brush their teeth. This argument breaks down into 4 main parts: that she doesn’t need a separate toothbrush for her ‘back teeth’ and ‘front teeth’; that she doesn’t need me to caterwaul “Baby Shark” whilst she attempts to undertake the task; just eating the toothpaste is not only not good enough but ill-advised; and, finally, necking a glass of water straight after waving the brush in your mouth for 2 seconds is not the same thing.
It is surprising, the number of everyday objects that find novel uses when trying to bring up a neuro-divergent child. Up until recently, I alway thought that a shaving mirror was predominately used for shaving. I have been informed that I am mistaken in this assumption: What it seems is its main use is to allow small children to inspect their gnashers to make sure they are clean. The name ‘shaving mirror’ is misleading, it is actually a ‘dental inspection mirror’.
So it is with great joy I present to you our new strategy for getting fae to brush their teeth: try giving them a shaving mirror – ours spends a lot of time staring at her reflection (I think she was a budgie in a previous life) and will rigorously study each of her teeth to make sure they are clean before relinquishing her brush in the evening. She has conceded that maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t just being a pedant, and there really was a reason to scrub these little bony protrusions.
Of course this only works if your fae (like ours) has an obsession with things being clean.
Disclaimer; if your fae still thinks they’re a budgie don’t give them the mirror – they’ll headbutt it.
Raising the Modern Fae 