Still haven’t forgiven the folks for this one – Incident #1

dentures.jpgIt occured to me over the weekend that I’m still holding way too much resententment towards my parents for the many injustices bestowed upon me while growing up.

I thought it might be therapeutic to periodically chronicle one such injustice so the world can know my pain.

Granny’s Dentures

Last week while at my volunteer gig at the OSPCA thrift shop, a lady came in and approached the front desk with an air of cautious desperation.

“Excuse me … I’ve lost my brand new dentures, just got them last week. [Sigh.] I can’t find them anywhere and I think I may have accidentally dropped them in the donation bag I gave you. Have you seen any dentures?”

“No, I haven’t and I’m not sure we’d keep dentures even if we did find them. Let me take your name and number and someone will call you back if they pop up.”

“Thanks dear.”

I’ve been thinking about this exchange. Why did I dash this woman’s hopes? Why would I tell her that we wouldn’t keep the dentures?

I blame my parents.

You see, one time many years ago I was visiting my grandparents and Granny gave me an old pair of her dentures to play with. I was probably seven years old and I thought these were the greatest things ever. I was heavy into the school play at that moment, so absolutely everything was a potential prop.

I popped Granny’s faux dents into my mouth and wiggled ’em around to make them fit over top of my own teeth. Admittedly, I must have been a sight. Not because there’s anything wrong or gross about putting someone else’s removable chewing components in your mouth or anything; or that as a parent it must be hard to see your child basically making out with Granny’s dentures. No, I must have been a sight because I had become a collage, a juxtaposition of old and new. Living art.

Well, Mom didn’t see the expression as art. But she was never the arty one, she always advocated business classes. Sigh. So, as soon as Mom spotted the new me she hissed, screeched, howled, [insert animal noise here], “get those things out of your mouth. No way. Uh, uh. No. You’re not having them. Give them back to Granny. Now. Rick, do something.”

Anyway, still to this day I say, it’s just not fair. It’s not fair that I lost the best prop ever and it’s not fair that my outlook on dentures has been so perverted that I can’t even imagine a nice little old lady recovering hers.

Tsk. Tsk. When I’m a parent … bring on the dentures.

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2 Responses to “Still haven’t forgiven the folks for this one – Incident #1”

  1. Kyle says:

    You kept the old ladies dentures for yourself, didn’t you!

  2. Jen says:

    I have two childhood denture horror stories. One morning on the way out the door in my late teens, I was groping for my car keys in our basement rec room where my Dad happened to be sleeping. I plonked my hand right in his dentures glass and screamed. Horrific. The other incident involved my old Grandad who was little and wizened, and never ever wore his dentures. He was in the hospital for something and the nurses had made him wear his dentures – when we walked in the room he looked like Mr. Ed, he literally couldn’t close his lips around them. Horrific.