Short Stories From 10 Years Ago – November 30, 2004
The Tooth Goddess
Short Stories From 10 Years Ago – November 30, 2004 – I was up nice and early this morning and chopped down a nice medium-sized maple tree with my big beaver teeth. Why? Because I could and because today is the day I get my final movie star teeth. My last visit this year to see my dentist Peter.
When he’s finished the Tooth Fairy will be a distant memory in the hearts and minds of children everywhere. She will have been supplanted by me – the Tooth Goddess. She of the dazzling smile. If there is a problem, you may read about the beastly kidnapping of a well-known and much loved Toronto dentist. He’ll be like Ambrose Small – a man who vanished in the night, never to be seen again.
Okay, perhaps that’s a bit extreme – but I’m feeling radical. In university , I marched in anti-Vietnam rallies, and later in Women Take Back The Night campaigns. I can still be a rebel, so absconding with a dentist is not beyond the pale of my capabilities. Now I’m off to see the Wizard of Wellington – The Flat Iron tooth doctor and when I return, my dental trials will be a thing of the past.
I’m back at my computer – face frozen, mouth a rictus of misery. I of beaver teeth fame have been driven from my clan and forced to join the gap-e-tooth tribe. I’m to reside here for three or four weeks to see how my mouth adjusts to this new bridge. I have to say that I’m verging on goddess status. If it wasn’t for a couple of fairly obvious gaps at gum level, these chompers would be perfect. Until the freezing is out of my mouth, I can’t really tell how they look. Peter did the usual, prying my lips off my gums so we could see if my smile looked at all natural, but the outcome of this procedure is less than satisfactory.
Now the good news is that my impermanent “beaver teeth” have been retired in favour of the new bridge, which has been bonded in place with temporary cement. The fine-tuning on this bridge has been bewildering. Who knew that teeth were such intricate things? When you’re a kid your baby teeth fall out and new ones grow in. End of story! The tooth fairy leaves you some money during the dark of night, your mother saves your little teeth (because after all – she is the tooth fairy) and shows them to a new boyfriend over dinner – but then life goes on.
It’s very simple, you’re either blessed with great teeth or you’re not. I fell into the “not” category, hence this year long ordeal. I’m actually starting to wonder if Peter really is a dentist. His office may just be a front for illegal activities like tooth brush smuggling or a hideout for the heinous lip balm bandits. That might help to explain the length of time its taken for me to flash the pearly whites.
Of course the other way of looking at it is that Peter is a veritable “artiste” – a master, whose superior skill is legendary in dental circles. I may never know where the truth really lies, but I’m definitely on the home stretch. Not quiet there yet, but oh so very close. As for experiencing the deep satisfaction of being a tooth goddess, I want to tell you – there’s no feeling quite like it. I now have good reason to get up every morning with a smile on my face. Anything less would be a betrayal of beavers everywhere!
