"I wonder why they call it toothpaste," Myra thought as she brushed her teeth for the third time that day. The last time she had gone to the dentist, she had found a cavity. She was determined not to get any more, so she had started to brush her teeth after each meal, even carrying a small toothbrush and toothpaste kit in her purse.
After spitting out her toothpaste, Myra wiped her face and then headed downstairs to say goodnight to her older sister Emily. Emily was babysitting Myra while their parents were out at a business dinner.
Myra found Emily chatting on the phone and chomping on veggie chips. She stood there quietly waiting for Emily to get done. After what seemed like 20 minutes and at least as many veggie chips, Emily hung up and said with a growl, "What do you want?"
"I just wondered why they call toothpaste paste," Myra asked.
Emily frowned. "I don't know. Why don't you ask the librarian tomorrow when you go to school? Honestly, where do you come up with these ridiculous questions?"
Myra gave her sister a quick hug goodnight, and Emily punched in another number on the phone. Before Myra reached the first stair step, Emily was chatting away. Myra sighed. Maybe someday Emily would stop considering her a pain in the neck.
After crawling into bed, Myra began to think about toothpaste. She took out her journal and began to write reasons why it might be considered "paste." She wrote:
It keeps your teeth in.
It sticks to your teeth so dirt can't get in.