Damn Toof

I am a cuckoo clock, all that would be necessary is a small wooden bird to inhabit the again crevice, the gap, the cavern of my missing front tooth.  Nuisance is all that can be said; small potatoes in the real world, so many people have no teeth at all, but talking to colleagues is torture at the day job.  They try to avert their eyes from the tiny snaggle of dental stump; due to the root canal besides, there is a bright pink cement something frozen at the remaining point which punctuates the grey, daid tooth.  It looks like hell.  The irritated gum is gruesomely pulled back, and I am a cartoon thufferin' thuccotash, while trying not to hit people with spit as I talk.  Whee.  This does nothing for my looks, unless you go into negative numbers.

The cap felt funny yesterday morning as toothbrush bristles poked around with unfamiliar sensations.  No. No, no, no.  Not again. By nightfall, it was wiggling to and fro like a seesaw in a playground full of kids.  Not wanting to swallow it in the night while sleeping, I helped it the rest of the way and put it in a small plastic bag, tossing it into the purse.  I may try the Recapit again, even though that didn't work the last time.  I should get a box of Chiclets and stick one in there, a door of coated peppermint gum to swing open on the way to the glottis.

What other solutions are there when the dental office is closed on Mondays? I could draw a picture of a tooth and tape it in from the back, duct tape will stick to anything.  On this mockup will be space for advertising, a cheerful proverb, or a "Try Again Later" saying like that of a Magic Eight Ball.  When people, especially children, start mewling about needs and desires, my grin will transmit that exact thought.  Try Again Later.  Not Likely.  Outlook Dismal.  Get Busy.

Ah well, back to the dentist tomorrow, with hope.  This is Thanksgiving week, and relatives will be met Thursday by a full set of choppers so they can see I am doing fine and have most of my marbles.  Cousin  Susie with a missing front tooth will underscore their suspicions that the last immigration of invasive genetics from Europe to the New World are taking over and sprouting branches with monkeys, they were just sort of hidden until now.

Nighttime has come in and sat down in a thump as it does during the end of year.  You look up and all of a sudden it's dark, for heaven's sake, you were just peeling carrots or reading and whomp, hit over the head with midnight at four thirty.  Well it slows you down, which is good.  Jammies go on earlier, cups put away in the cupboard sooner, you're not running around the yard or down the street, maybe a board game is a good idea.  Make something, fold something, tell a story something.  Reach down into memory for a fable of learning or fun and think about when.  Sleep well, take some words with you, spin them as you fall.  Good night.