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Friday, May 21, 2010

Tooth Cry Or Not Tooth Cry...

     Don'tcha' just love it when you're fifteen years old and everything in your world is going right?  You know what I mean; beauty, charm, lovely clothes, Every. Single. Person. You. Meet. wants to be your friend.  Isn't that what life was like for you when you were fifteen years old?  Yeah, me too.  NOT!

     Now, lemme' give you the real picture.  My two front teeth were still too large for my mouth... ever since about third grade.  Unless someone else fixed my hair, it looked like a glorious style created by a five year old, right after a particularly bad temper-fit.  I had recently managed a razor blade accident that left me with a huge, ugly bandage over my right eye and, to top it all off, I held the un-enviable position of Last Chair in the trumpet section of the band.  One of my passions was to play the trumpet professionally.

     Naturally, fifteen was the age when I was beginning to realize that no boy... most especially, THAT BOY... could EVER be interested in a Tomboy like me.  Did I mention that my two front teeth were too big for my mouth?  I'm not sure they ever would have settled down to looking normal.

     'Course, I never did hafta' worry 'bout that on accounta' THAT BOY.  {thump! thump! thump! went my beating heart, every time he walked by or looked in my direction}.  'Course, he was never unkind to anyone.  It wasn't his fault that he had those looks.  And he couldn't help it if he was so smart that his grades were off the charts.  And could he really be blamed for being able to play so many different intstruments?  No, none of that was his fault, but it sure didn't make me feel any better about myself, either.

     So there I sat, in the last chair, silently drooling over admiring the best looking boy in school.  Since I did aspire to be a great trumpet player, I spent a great deal of time studying the workings and odd connections of music as they applied to the trumpet and me.  In doing so that day, I momentarily lost my love connection at the exact wrong instant and that would prove to change my life forever.

     I like to tell myself (although, even I know differently) that a magical career died when the best looking boy in school lost his balance and fell against the front of my trumpet, that day.  It might not have made any difference, except for the part where I was holding the trumpet in position and doing the finger-plays, just as though I were actually playing music.  Did I mention that the best looking boy in school weighed at least 150 pounds and I didn't even come close to 100 pounds, soaking wet?  My front tooth never had a chance.

     Later, in the dentist's chair, my tooth was so twisted that, after giving me an unbelievable amount of novacaine and gas, the dentist actually propped his foot up on the chair to try and twist it the rest of the way out of my mouth!  Imagine his shock when I screamed in pain.  Yup!  Even with bucket-loads of pain-killer, I felt that extraction just the same way that I am still feeling the results of my most recent difficulties.  And at fifteen years old, I was just overjoyed to be relieved of one of my front teeth.  In fact, I loved THAT little fact so much that I seriously considered going into permanent hibernation.

     Two weeks later, when I returned to school (remember; this is me... I heal V-E-E-E-R-Y slowly), I could only wish that the floor would open up and swallow me.  It was the most horrible day of my life.  That is, until the Best. Looking. Boy. In. School stopped by my desk and handed me a rose... and a card.

     Inside the card was a note, asking if he could walk me home from school.  Don'tcha' just love it when you're fifteen years old and everything in your world is going right?  Until the next time, keep a hug on.

 ~ Yaya


My name is PJ. said...

What a sweet, sweet story! Love the ending!

Yaya' s Home said...

Thank you, PJ. Fifteen is a tough age. But then, they all are, aren't they?

~ Yaya

Beth in NC said...

Awwww, what a sweet guy. Ouchie about the tooth though! My husband played trumpet and someone broke his tooth as well. This guy did it on purpose though. It chipped the bottom of his tooth off. Guys ... sigh.

So, did he walk you home?

Yaya' s Home said...

Hi Beth,
Yes, he did walk me home. Then the next week, we moved to another town and I was the new kid, again. *sigh*

~ Yaya

Debbie said...

Such is life!!! It really builds character, doesn't it?

kanishk said...

sweet story! Love the ending!
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~Rebecca~ said...

thankyou for your comment on my courting post!! I am happy to tell you that we do pray together every night when Justin calls, and we are also studying the book of John together. Thankyou so much for your suggestions!! :)


PJ said...

Hey Yaya!

We went to New Orleans and Baton Rouge. We were only there for 4 days, but had a blast. We went on a riverboat ride up the Mississippi, and then to the French Market. After that we went on a Swamp Tour. That was awesome! I really enjoyed it. We're back one, but I don't think I'm going to do a post tonight. I'm exhausted, and I need to transfer my Pictures from my lap top to my desk top so I can upload them onto my posts. As far as your "tooth saga" , that would have been my "fairytale'. My front tooth had a HUGE chip in it from the time I was 6 years old until my early twenties. I finally got it capped, but the military used cheap materials and now it's discolored, so it still looks bad. I have learned to smile with a thin smile and my eyes. We never had enough money to get it capped until I married a GI and got medical benefits. I understand about high school. The only thing that was "popular" about me was being UN-popular! The school which I had to attend was a "money school" and my mom, being divorced, worked 2-3 jobs just to support us and put a roof over our heads, so my popularity was not high on her priority list. All this was before I reached high school, this was just elementary and Junior High. Mom passed away before I reached high school age, so by then, I didn't care one way or the other what people thought about me cause I moved from relative to relative so often.

See I don't need to do a post tonight. All anyone has to do is read this comment. LOL! It's almost long enough to be a post. Haha!

God Bless!


Yaya' s Home said...

Debbie, thank you. I agree; it really does build character. 'Course, if I become much more of a character, I'm not sure even I will be able to hang around with me. LOL

Thank you, Kanishk. It is a very fond memory.

PJ, it is so good to see you again. I'm glad you had a good time in Louisiana. Its a great place. And I enjoyed your comments very much. Thank you.

Get some rest and enjoy the memory. And thank you all for your words of encouragement. I think I have finally begun traveling the road to recovery. In case this confuses you, just read the next post about uuuuuhm, uh... oh, I dunno'... whatever it is I was talkin' 'bout. Thanks to each of you.

~ Yaya

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