“Open your mouth,” asked Fofuxo. Pigúiça pressed her lips together. She pressed so hard that her whole nose wrinkled. Not a single tooth showed.
“I don't wanna brush,” she said, with her mouth closed, which came out as “mmm nmm wun bwush.” Fofuxo waited. He had learned that waiting works better than pushing.
“Why not?” he asked. Pigúiça opened just a corner of her mouth. “Because it's boring. It tickles. And I'm already sleepy.”
“I understand,” said Fofuxo. “I used to think it was boring too. Want to know what I found out?” Pigúiça opened one eye. “What?”
“Teeth have a life at night,” he whispered. “While we sleep, they chat. If they're clean, they sing a lovely little song. If they have bits of food stuck on them, they cough and complain, and we wake up in the morning with a yucky mouth.”
“Teeth sing?” asked Pigúiça, her eyes wide. “They do. Want to hear mine?”
Fofuxo opened his mouth in a big smile. You could see all his teeth, white and shining like pearls. Pigúiça came very close and listened. She didn't hear anything. But she imagined a tiny thin little tune: ting-a-ling, ting-a-ling.
“I hear it!” she fibbed a little. Then she laughed. “I mean, I imagine it.” “Imagining counts too,” said Fofuxo.
He picked up two little toothbrushes, one for each of them, and invented a game. “We'll brush until the song of the singing stone is over. Top, bottom, front, back.”
Pigúiça took her brush. It tickled at first, but then not so much. Her front teeth, covered in minty foam, looked as if they were covered in snow. The ones in the back, hard to reach, she brushed very carefully, one by one.
Outside, the stone sang slowly. La, la, la, la. The song was long, and Pigúiça brushed until the very last “la.” Then she rinsed, spat out the foam, and looked in the mirror.
A huge smile appeared. White, shining, just like Fofuxo's. “It looks like a full moon,” she said proudly. “Now your teeth will sing all night long,” said Fofuxo.
Pigúiça went to bed, her mouth fresh with mint and her heart happy. She laid her head on the pillow, with a little smile she didn't even know she was making.
And very softly, deep inside her sleep, she heard it. Ting-a-ling, ting-a-ling. Her little teeth were singing, just for her.
