Every night, I brush my teeth. My mom makes me. She says it will make me big and strong and prevent cavities, so I won’t have to go to the Evil Dentist Who Hates Children. She sets a three-minute timer and then, after scrubbing each of my teeth, which my friend Bradley tells me I’m going to lose anyway, she makes me gargle this disgustingly minty liquid called mouthwash.

I used to hate mouthwash. But now, I have evolved.

For those of you not in the know, mouthwash has alcohol, which makes you drunk. Tina, who I’ve known since kindergarten, which was like a million years ago, taught me about alcohol three days ago after she ate penne alla vodka at her family’s Sunday dinner.

Vodka is apparently another type of alcohol, and she got super tipsy. She described the feeling as, “when recess gets extended because the teacher is busy napping inside and doesn’t care about us, but even better.” I did not know how that was possible.

Of course, I needed to feel this too.

So tonight, I devised a super plan. Instead of gargling and spitting out the mouthwash like my mom tells me, I swallowed it all up. I heard that my mouthwash cap is around half a shot (the adult unit for alcohol), so when my mom was distracted arguing with my dad about his female coworker, I poured extra for myself and chugged it all.

Tina was so right. I feel better than ever. I had an entire dance party past my bedtime to Baby Shark AND ate five Oreos while watching a Mr. Beast video.

Alcohol might be the best thing on Earth. Mouthwash truly makes me feel something. It makes me braver, more confident, more mature, maybe even all grown-up like a ten-year-old. Maybe with alcohol, I can even face the Evil Dentist.