This is the last sentence of the Sentence Assignment set of writings. I know this because my friend has informed me that his schooling will be done next week. So this is the last bit of this sort of gibberish you’ll be running into for a good while. Yes, smile, Invisible Reader. We are at the close, as they say. And by they, I mean nobody. Or them.
So here it is. Four minutes to write about: “Be true to your teeth or they’ll be false to you.”
Braces. I remember the fucking braces. My mother wanted me to have them. Made some kind of deal with my dad to split the cost. I’m sure he had his doubts about what she would actually do with the money. I know I learned that lesson.
I guess I should be thankful for the braces. I’ve kissed a lot of girls with these awesome teeth. I have to admit, that aside from a lil curve at the end of it, I don’t get a million compliments on my penis. But my teeth? All the time. Chicks with, “You shouldn’t hide your smile.” They have no idea that I used to be Dracula at Halloween with no need to purchase fangs. At one point in middle school, I had my two milk teeth above my regular canines.
I remember when the dentist took out a bunch of perfectly good teeth. The Life Saver taste of the sprayed on anesthetic. The giant needle with the two hoops at the end of it for deft fingers. I remember the crick-crick-crick-crick while the dentist pried out teeth, back and forth, back and forth, with PLIERS, because my mouth was apparently too small for all my teeth. ME! A small mouth! Somewhere at my old place, there is a small plastic cylinder with the teeth in it. If you open it, you will probably smell something similar to an Egyptian mummy’s cheese collection.
I also had oral surgery for removal of my wisdom teeth. Cavemen teeth with no real use in the present. And I had FIVE of them (four is normal!). I’m a lil extra caveman classic when I roll with my sarcastic.
I remember the pain from the braces. I could feel my gums sweating saliva. I could feel my heart beating in that pink rumply tissue that held my chompers in place.
At one point, I swore to my mother and father that I’d put them in a home one day for the pain they had brought upon me.
My mom and I would go to Checker’s after my dental appointments, usually. I couldn’t eat anything but fries and a shake. And none of it ever hid the taste of newly tightened metal. The ghost of aluminum. I remember thinking what a terrible price I had to pay to get out of school early.
I hid the braces well all through middle school. Only a couple of people knew I had them. I think it was half learning to look hard and half knowing to hide things from the vultures known as children.
You dumb bastards didn’t know a thing about raising a boy. But thanks for the awesome teeth. Couldn’t have gotten laid without them.