Friday, May 11, 2007

An encounter of the Toothless Kind

A good friend of mine had the sad misfortune of having a tooth extracted yesterday, not cool! Get well soon Shings, just keep popping them painkillers!

I’ve been lucky enough to escape such a trip to the dentist (touch wood), but it got me thinking….when did losing a tooth become such drama? Back in the day you’d actually get paid for doing so!!!

I have one scarring childhood memory regarding tooth loss!

Picture the scene: I must have been about seven and I’d lost one of my milk teeth, clearly I was quite ecstatic about this coz it meant I’d get a boost in allowance, Choc 99’s and jam donuts didn’t come cheap for a kid with no form of disposable income. Now don’t get me wrong, although I was seven I wasn’t stupid…i knew exactly who the tooth fairy was! However, I’d reasoned that as long as She knew that I didn’t know, the money would keep rolling in. That whole day I dropped all sorts of hints, “I really hope the tooth fairy knows where I live now” (we’d moved back home) blah blah blah. That night I plumped up my pillows, stuck my tooth under with a cutesy note attached (hey, I liked to a give convincing performance) with full knowledge of what the dawn would bring.

Alas, its seems my great marketing skills had drawn the attention of not only my mother, but my older sister…the first person I saw when I woke up the next morning. She was calmly perched on my bed looking at me with what looked like a triumphant smirk. In a panic I flung my pillow back hoping beyond all hopes that she had not got to my “stash”, but it was too late…there was nothing. When I turned back, she was proudly flaunting what should have been MY crisp, green $5 dollar bill and innocently asked, “Are you looking for this?.” I merely nodded, dreading what was to come, ”Listen, I need some money so I’ll take this and pay you back later okay” and with that statement she exited my room.

Many scenarios were going through my head at this point; Should I go after her? (not a chance mate, 12yr olds were not to be messed with), should I tell my mum? (and then suffer at the hands of the 12yr old when my mum was at work, hell nah)…no, there was only one thing to do; be quiet, keep my head down and my nose clean or I would end up swimming with the fishes capisce.

Moral of the story: I think you owe me some money Tendi!

Have a great weekend folks!


Anonymous said...

Shaa whats with the name and shame tip = i can see I shall be apologising for this little stunt all my life!

Vimbai said...

You better believe it!

Anonymous said...

haaa the amount of times ive heard this story lola its classic!!! lol