Middle Squeezers

 

There comes a time when differences appear.

A realization that one is alone.  Individual, not by choice, but habit.

Where there is no right, nor wrong…just action, practice and propriety.

 

My fair and lofty sentiments reflect a conclusive feeling of aversion that I, as a end-squeezer, live amongst a family of…middle-squeezers.

 

 

Just grab & squeeze.

With no rhyme or reason.

Right from the middle.

Leaving the poor tube a mangled wreck of product.

 

 

Oh it’s not just toothpaste, mind you.

My clan of middle squeezers leave their marks on this…

 

 

 

Or that.

By the way, who needs this much Neosporin?

They didn’t use this much antiseptic during the Great Plague.

This is enough ointment to last for generations!

 

 

 

Being a meticulous, end-squeezer myself, I am constantly crimping, wringing & smoothing tubes of all kinds to create a uniform, well-maintained look of consumer products.

 

My buttoned-up semblance will only last for a day or two before the middle squeezers do their nasty.

Once again leaving the tube looking like a jack-knifed semi-truck.

And requiring me to use the jaws of life to extract a half-inch glob of minty flouride onto the soft bristles of my Oral-B.

 

After years of battle with middle squeezers, I know my work is futile.  Change will never come about.

 

 

Thus, I surrender my fight and offer a conciliatory truce.

 

As the old saying goes…If you can’t beat’em, join them.

 

Happy brushing everyone.