Aquafresh Brush Time – An honest review.

Nina Austen - 25 Sep 17

Hey Aquafresh!

How’s it going? Allow me to introduce myself. I’m a mum of two beautiful and willful children. They know what they like and what they don’t like. For example, they like inventing games called ‘stick stick pull’ – where one pulls the others trousers off and consequently wins. They like hiding stuff in other stuff. And they most definitely do not like brushing their teeth.

Both of my little fusspots assume that shoving a toothbrush in their mouth, eating its minty offerings and then exclaiming ‘I’m done’ is an appropriate way to maintain good oral hygiene. So imagine my delight when I discovered your handy app, Aquafresh Brush Time.

‘Hurrah!’ I thought… something to encourage them to actually brush with the toothbrush for the recommended 2 minutes rather than their preferred 1.7 seconds. A replacement for my persistent whining and eventual surrender where I give up and just do it for them. Little did I know what I was getting myself into.

As directed, this app is now wheeled out twice daily. And slowly, their brushing technique is improving, but at what cost? Because every time I hit ‘open’ and start the process all over again, I want to sucker punch myself in the genitals. Twice a day.

Let’s kick off with the main protagonist – Captain Aquafresh. Here he is, everyone’s favourite Desperate Dan wannabe.

Firstly Aquafresh design team, kudos for giving him a shadowed codpiece, but now I’ve seen it it’s ALL I CAN BLOODY LOOK AT. It’s like David Bowie’s package in Labyrinth. It’s hypnotising. It even distracts from his strong jawline and massive hands. Seriously, he looks like he’s wearing giant foam fingers under some marigolds.

Also, I’m unsure if old Captain AquaBulge is supposed to be buff, or he’s one of those dudes that used to be fit but now drinks too many cans of Stella on a Friday night. You know the one. Likes a bit of donner meat. On chips. With cheese.

He’s either sucking in his tummy or wearing a man girdle. And don’t get me started on his pecs. As soon as they’re released from that spandex suit, they’re flopping down like an aeroplane tray table.

So then Aquafresh, along with Captain AquaDong, you decided to introduce the Nurdle’s family. I’m a bit disappointed you went with stereotypical colours for the different genders – Billy = blue ‘cos boy and Lily = red ‘cos girl – but let’s not sweat the small stuff. Let’s talk about the small stuff. The third and smallest member of the Nurdle’s family, Milky Nurdle. The ‘baby’ only ‘unlocked’ after 245 brushes and when the moon is in Uranus.

Now my kids love this little guy, whereas I find Milky freaky as fuck.

Why you gotta haunt my dreams Aquafresh? My kids think he is cute, I think he looks like someone tripping of their nuts at a festival. Those pupils are pretty big. He’s looking at me like he wants to plait my hair and feed me liquified Peperami’s from a spoon.

I see you’ve given him a single tooth = ‘cos baby, but this just exacerbates his creepiness.

Methinks Milky needs to lay off the meth.

Sorry, Aquafresh. I’m being a bit of a negative Nancy, aren’t I? There are positives to the app. It’s great that you have different options for character, scenery, music and dances. It’s more stuff for my kids to fight over, but enough for me to allocate them two categories each.

However,  it appears that the majority of your budget was ploughed into the first couple of options for most categories. For example, in the dance category, the rock and roll dance is merely a fist pump and a bit of lacklustre air guitar. And as my little ones don’t know what a fist pump is nor do they associate it with rock, they just call it the choo choo dance. Maybe think about changing the name to something more train-like to manage expectations? If you’re interested the idea is yours for six-figure sum – just pop me an email.

Also, let’s talk music. I am pretty passionate about music in general. I’ve put a lot of man-hours into teaching my little scamps about the greats – Stevie Wonder, Bob Marley,  The Beatles. But despite my efforts, they bloody love the Brushtime song and the app’s 90’s Europop banger ‘Look at Me.’ The opening bars of this ‘song’ truly make my heart sink. If I am going to be subject to 4 minutes of music a day from this app, I think you need to up your game. At present, the offerings sound like they’ve been chosen by a meth addled freaky little dude.

So Aquafresh, in summary –  thank you for creating something that has put my children on the right path to independent brushing. But if you’re thinking of upgrading the app in anyway, here’s some suggestions:

• Sort out Captain AquaWang. Think more Batman and less Gérard Depardieu.
• Un-stereotype Billy and Lily. Maybe Billy likes a skinny jean and a flowery shirt and Lily rocks a pair of DM’s. Just an idea.
• Get Milky into the priory, STAT.
• Throw away the synth keyboard and hire a music consultant.

Yours sincerely,

A Mum, music fan and founder of the ‘Save Milky Foundation.’

This ‘review’ is in no way sponsored by or affiliated to Aquafresh. I received no free toothpaste or meth as payment.

Soz Aquafresh, I’m only playing 😉

Nina Austen

Gaa Gaa Land is a collection of ramblings from a stay at home mum of two. Although said ramblings might veer into the serious from time to time, this blog is largely satire. GGL uses humour, irony and exaggeration to amplify this crazy parenting ride, but everything is from real life. It’s all true. Even the embarrassing bits. N is in her mid late thirties and enjoys writing, F1, early 2000’s UK Gladiators, picking play doh out of her hair, cooking, Game of Thrones, stationary, innuendo and swearing. She loves her kids, husband, friends, the Dalai Lama, Bjork and is partial to a Cliff Richard calendar (classic examples of brilliance – 1996 and 2010). She also thinks it’s weird writing in the third person.

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