Fond Fang Memories

As the holiday season looms in the chilly November future, nostalgia inevitably draws people to bust out the homemade decorations and family photos from years past. I was recently combing through my mom's jewelry collection stored in the top drawer of her dresser. The collection is chock full of old pairs of earrings and some of the first jewelry my sister and I were ever given. As I inspected the contents of tiny boxes and silk bags I couldn't help but mourn the countless broken gold chains and earrings missing their matching counterparts. The numerous pairs of dolphin-shaped earrings made me question whether I had a forgotten obsession with dolphins as a young girl. No such obsession came to mind, which left me wondering why my mother repeatedly chose dolphin themed earrings for my sister and I.

As I continued examining the jewelry collection, my mind wandered to other childhood collections. It was at this point I started searching for my baby teeth, hoping my mom had not thrown them out. As it turns out, the tooth collection was being safely stored in a jewelry box in a loose drawer on top of the refrigerator in the garage. Though smaller than I remember, the teeth made the familiar clattering sound as I pushed them around the box with my finger. They sounded like tiny seashells bumping into each other when I closed my eyes.

I brought my collection back inside and gingerly selected my favorite tooth. Ah, but it was no ordinary tooth. Have you ever had a tooth grow from the roof of your mouth? Well I have, and for the duration of it's lifetime, I had no idea it was not normal to have a tooth growing up there. Growing singularly behind my two front teeth, the rogue tooth had a mind of its own, growing in a rather conical shape with a pointed, fang-like tip. I don't even remember what it was like to have a tooth growing where it shouldn't, but I wouldn't make this up.

I DO remember the terrifying experience of getting the tooth removed, as the tooth-extracting-people realized with a shock how well my crazy fang tooth had rooted itself. Oh yes, being held down by two technicians and injected with repeated doses of numbing agent was an unforgettable event. And the gap, oooh the glorious gap I couldn't stop feeling with my tongue after the horrifying procedure was over. Despite the terrifying extraction process, I am still very fond of my fang. It is doubtful I will ever produce another fang in my lifetime, but I can't help but wonder if I have some secret mystical power not yet known to me. I've always been fond of the woods. Perhaps one day the rest of my fangs will finally grow in and I can run with the other wolves and howl at the full moon.