Redneck Mama...

This may very well be a "you just had to be there" story, but we'll see if I can do it justice!

This, is my mama: (well, okay, not just my mama, also my Grandpa, and my goofy aunt, Nature Girl...)



Note her pearly white, gorgeous teeth (my mom's, not my aunt's...not that they (my aunt's teeth--hmm, can you parenthesis in a parenthesis?), aren't you know, pearly and white). They didn't come easy to her. No, indeed they did not...as those teeth would be veneers! I have an uncle who works for a large dental company...a dental company that does cosmetic dentistry. Since they (my parents, not my the dental company), you know, know my uncle, he was able to get them those gorgeous teeth "for just the lab fees" (essentially, for cost)...here's the catch: those performing the procedure were "learning" it. Know what it takes to learn something? Yup, practice! It makes perfect, right?

Well, I dunno 'bout you, but there are somethings I just won't let anyone practice on me, although some things, I'd be okay with. Need to practice bagging my groceries? Go right ahead (just don't squish my bread)! Learning how to give a massage? Certainly I'd sacrifice myself for that, no hesitation...here's my naked back, have it! Oh, what's that? You need practice cleaning homes? Knock yourself out...you'd get some fabulous experience with my home! Heck, I'd even let you practice starting an IV on me! (Aren't I generous?!) Cosmetic dentistry, however? Not a chance! Don't even want to think about letting someone practice on me! Geez, I'm considering sedation dentistry...just for a cleaning and exam (silly, isn't it? When I'll push a 7 pound baby out of me without a lick of pain meds? I know, I'm a little nutso!). Turns out, I think my mom would agree with me, now. She has had nothing but trouble since her procedure...root canals, broken veneers, messed up bite...but, I digress, and here's the story:

My mama and I were dining out one evening, having just enjoyed a fabulous day of shopping! We were sitting, chatting, enjoying our food, when she bit into a flatbread pizza. Suddenly, she gets a "deer in headlights" look, and proceeds to spit out a tooth. Now, not knowing which tooth, she opens her mouth, I catch a glimpse of the gaping hole where her (almost) front tooth had been, and I burst into hysterical laughter. I'm talking gasping for air, tears running down my cheeks, crossing my legs so I don't pee my pants, kind of hysterics. She looked like a crazy, redneck mama, without that tooth!

I felt terrible. I looked away, composed myself, looked back to give her the comfort she deserved...and burst into giggles, again. She, however, did not see the humor in it...quite yet. She wasn't in any pain, thank goodness (or you'd really think I was one bum for a daughter!).

Just when I had pulled myself together...she started talking. Everytime she said the "f" sound, her lip would flap in the breeze coming out of the ginormous gap in her mouth. And, yup...off I'd go. Laughing, crying, peeing my pants...at such an inappropriate time. Sigh...you'd think I could've been a little more mature about it, huh? Turns out, I still can't even talk about it without laughing my head off...thankfully, she now sees the humor in it...and laughs along with me.

Now, if only I had a picture of her with her missing tooth!!