A Gold Tooth? Really?

The past has always seemed small to me, as it probably  does to most of us. We are too busy living in the present and planning for the future to spend much time considering what’s already done. But, once in awhile, something I see, or hear, slingshots me into a memory so vivid it’s hard to believe it’s more than fifty years old.

Such a thing happened to me when our granddaughters began losing their teeth. I don’t know how you feel, but I don’t think there’s anything quite as charming as a child’s smirk that is ringed with even rows of tiny white specks.  But, as irresistible as those smiles are, the rings must be replaced with larger ones that fit a growing face. This results in jack-o-lantern grins that are so short-lived you wonder if you really ever saw them at all. Each day produces a different snaggle, a smaller vacancy in that smile.

I know now that the first tooth I lost was my "lower left incisor," but then I only knew I was five and if I put that tooth under my pillow I would find a nickel in the morning. My allowance was a penny a week, so a nickel was a fortune! Best of all, I had a mouthful of these valuable things called “baby teeth.” Who knew?

But my most precious memory accompanying that rite of passage is all about my grandmother, who lived with us. We called her Momo.

As I ran into Momo’s room to show her my first gap-toothed grin, she said, “Now Tracy, if you don’t put your tongue in the hole before the new tooth comes in, you will grow a gold tooth.” Crestfallen, I realized I had already done it, dozens of times in fact! But more opportunities were ahead, and I was determined to succeed with the next. Of course, I never did. But for a few years I really believed it just might be true. Who could prove otherwise?

As our granddaughters lose teeth faster than speeding bullets, I make sure to tell them about the gold tooth. So far, Hannah and Katie aren’t buying it. Katie, in fact, always makes a point of showing me her tongue slithering back and forth through the newest hole like a snake’s tongue darting between fangs.

But Sarah just turned five and has a loose tooth.

I’m not giving up.