Noon Spool

Pop Chris' Teeth

by: Christopher Miller


Pop Chris lives with my Nan. I slept over at their house last night. Pop Chris said it was okay as long as I brought The Incredibles, my new DVD. This is my favorite movie. Pop Chris says it is his favorite movie too now. He says the dad in it reminds him of The Tic—whoever that is.

I have a little brother named Kiefer. Pop Chris and Nan said that Kiefer couldn’t come along this time, that this time it would just be me. But I helped Kiefer pack his suitcase anyway—just in case they changed their minds.

When they came to pick me up, they told Kiefer, “You aren’t coming this time. You have to stay with your uncle Mike. This time it will just be Rowan”—me. But Kiefer still kept trying to put his suitcase in the backseat of their car. Then he cried so much they changed their minds.

Once, a long time ago, Pop Chris got a toothache. When he went to the dentist, the dentist wanted to fix the tooth. The dentist wanted to do a root canal on Pop Chris’ tooth. But Pop Chris said that he was sick of having his teeth fixed and told the dentist just to pull it out instead. The dentist did—but he wasn’t happy. Pop Chris told the dentist, “From now on, whenever one of my teeth hurts, I am going to have it pulled out.”

Before long, Pop Chris couldn’t eat peanuts or apples anymore. Pop Chris said, “I don’t care. I can still eat peanut butter and applesauce.”

Nan said his teeth looked like rows of tombstones. I said, “No they don’t Nan. Tombstones are big. And they have writing on them. Also, they are white, and they don’t lean over. Pop Chris’ teeth look like the kernels of corn that are left after Opa John has eaten a corn-on-the-cob very fast.” Nan said my simile was better—whatever that is.

Pop Chris decided to buy new teeth. He told the dentist to pull out all his old teeth—even though they didn’t hurt. Then Pop Chris told the dentist to make him some better teeth. At first the dentist didn’t want to. He said to Pop Chris, “If I make teeth like you are asking for, you will bite your tongue off.” But Pop Chris insisted. Pop Chris said, “Money is no object.”

Now, his new bottom teeth look like the grey pebbles in our fish tank. And his new top teeth look like shiny little knives, like tiny pairs of scissors, over and over.

Oma is my Nan’s mom. Oma’s teeth look real; but she can take them out. Pop Chris cannot take out his new teeth. “Suckers are screwed right into my jawbone,” he said. “Cost me eight grand a pop.”

At first, Pop Chris wasn’t allowed to use his new teeth. The dentist tied them shut so Pop Chris wouldn’t try to bite anything hard, and maybe break his jaw. I asked him if his mouth hurt.

“Feels like a deranged rat is trying to chew its way out,” he said through his new clenched teeth. “How’s that for a simile?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t know what that is.”

“You want to know what the worst thing about having your teeth wired shut for six weeks is?” asked Pop Chris.

“What?” I said.

“Throwing up,” said Pop Chris.

Then the dentist took the wires out so Pop Chris could open his mouth. He was very proud of his new teeth. “Suckers are screwed right into my jawbone,” he said again. “Cost me nine grand a pop.” He opened his mouth. “Try to wiggle one,” he said.

I said, “No thank you.”

“My new teeth are razor sharp,” said Pop Chris.

I asked him why he always grinds his new teeth. Even when he is asleep on the couch, he grinds them together. He said he is not grinding them, he is sharpening them. “My new teeth are self sharpening,” said Pop Chris.

Sometimes, when I make Pop Chris laugh, his upper lip bleeds for a while. “Stop trying to be so funny,” he says.

“I’m not trying to be funny,” I tell him.

“That is what’s so funny,” he says as his teeth turn red.

Sometimes he accidentally slices his tongue when he is talking, so that it bleeds a little too. And sometimes he nicks the inside of his cheeks when he is eating. “At least I have never bitten off any actual pieces,” says Pop Chris, “—not any big pieces. Nothing that won’t grow back.”

My Nan has a lot of brothers and sisters. I have a lot of cousins. Sometimes we all get together at my Oma’s house. After we eat, Pop Chris lies on the couch with a pillow over his head while everyone else talks and plays. Nan says that he is being antisocial.

Everyone knows not to poke Pop Chris while he is being antisocial. Kiefer has had his little finger sewed back on twice at the hospital. The second time it wasn’t his fault though. I pushed him into Pop Chris. Then Pop Chris’ head popped out from under the pillow and his new teeth clanked together. Nan said he looked like a big old snapping turtle. Of course he didn’t swallow Kiefer’s little finger. He just spit it out with a “Phutt!” My mom screamed. But Kiefer never made a sound. I think he was surprised.

Pop Chris said he was sorry. “I don’t do it on purpose,” said Pop Chris. “It’s like these darn teeth have a mind of their own.” Only he didn’t say “darn.” I had never seen anyone that old cry.

I have a boyfriend. His name is Ryan. The first time I met Ryan, I told him, “It is not good manners to pick your nose.” Then Ryan chased me with a booger. At my birthday party, when Ryan was chasing me with a different booger, my uncle Mike stopped him and said, “I bet you can’t wipe your booger on that guy sleeping on the couch.”

After they sewed Ryan’s booger finger back on, he stopped picking his nose for a while. He said he couldn’t feel the tip of it. He said it was like pushing the eraser end of a pencil in his nose.

I never pick my nose. And I always brush my teeth. Even though my dentist says they will all fall out and new ones will grow in, I still take care of them; I don’t eat too much candy. And I told my dentist not to pull my tooth out if I ever need a root canal.

posted by Tim @ 8:25 AM