Houston, we have a problem.
Mitchell refuses to brush his teeth.
Not getting dressed on Saturday - fine, as long as we're not going anywhere. Wearing your Batman cape to The Shops at La Cantera to buy new shoes - great, you're unique. Telling everyone you're 25 - fabulous, I look fantastic for being ... uh, older.
But, NOT BRUSHING YOUR TEETH?! That is just disgusting.
I've tried every tactic I can find on the Internet and concoct in my tiny little head.
I've let him pick out the toothbrush and the toothpaste. We have a timer and a song. Occasionally we even brush our teeth outside, spit into the toilet or spit into my bathtub. We have a special cup for rinsing and a special towel for wiping. We've played "Simon Says" and been attacked by the tooth brush monster. We've looked at photos of decaying teeth on the Internet and talked about how we need to keep our teeth healthy so we can eat hot dogs and chocolate.
Today, after sitting in the bathroom with him for 7 minutes, 38 seconds, I pulled a new one out of my you-know-what (actually, I read it online this morning): I told Mitchell it was his choice but he should know that none of his friends like stinky breath or slimy teeth.
His reply? "We'll follow your rules tomorrow, Mommy. I'll brush my teeth then."
Part of me wanted to deny him kisses today because of his stinky breath, but I don't want to create a complex. (And, his breath doesn't stink ... yet.)
So, ye wise bloggers and lurkers, please let me know what's worked for you, for I'm at my breaking point - and I don't want my poor son's beautiful smile to turn brown and fall out.