It belongs to her:
An hour into a great swim on the first beautiful, unscheduled day in three weeks, Meredith missed a step on the slide’s ladder and rode the steps with her face. Ouch.
She handed me her tooth and we were off to the dentist. I drove 60 mph in a 40 mph, and dared any policeman to stop me.
I swooped in my swimming suit, greasy with sunscreen and carrying Meredith biting on a bloody towel. Big entrance.
The dentist put down his bowl of macaroni and cheese—it was his lunch hour—and said, “Well Kiddo, looks like the Tooth Fairy will be visiting tonight.” Then he gave us ice cream vouchers and sent us on our way. He barely even looked at the tooth I tried to preserve in a bottle of Kirkland’s Best Spring Water.
Of course, the infamous brown tooth stayed firmly in place. Meredith managed to knock out the “good tooth.” Fabulous. I told Jill E., people will probably assume we’re from Appalachia. One missing tooth, one brown tooth, and Lord only knows what today’s fall will do for the discoloration of the surrounding teeth.
Have you ever seen those creepy fake teeth they put on high glitz pageant girls? They’re called “flippers.” Why do I know this? I will shamefully admit to watching the reality pageant show on TLC. Maybe I’ll order Merdi a flipper!
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