For a long time I tried to figure out why my one-year-old Aspen was so exuberant when I said it was time to brush her teeth, and yet when it came time to actually do so, she refused to open her mouth, forcing me to set her on the ground, constraining her arms with my legs, and pry open her mouth amid many screams and struggles. Then one night Teresa and I were working together to brush the girls teeth, and Teresa was in charge of Aspen. She started singing, “When you wake up in the morning and it’s quarter to one, you wanna have a little fun, you brush your teeth …” Aspen’s little mouth immediately popped open, and she allowed her teeth to be brushed without any fuss. The next night (and every night thereafter), I did the same thing and experienced the same results.
What the heck?
I think Pavlov can answer that.