Our great-grandshark, on our father’s side

By Tiber 

My nephew, Bo, lost a tooth. Here‘s the unsettling part.  It looks just like a shark tooth. He couldn’t have switched it because his mother was right there looking in his mouth when it came out.

This brings up all kinds of disturbing family thoughts, though why I’m still surprised by disturbing family thoughts, I don’t know. Duncan used to torment me with the idea that because our ancestors had made the family fortune in whalebone corsets, that, one day, whales were going to come and get me. Instead, it looks as if a shark may have really gotten, say, a great-grandmother.

Bo’s been to the dentist. How could Dr. Freeman not have noticed a shark tooth? Or did he see it and just decide to “back away slowly?” When we were kids, that literally used to happen to us all the time. Mom would say it was because we all looked like kings and queens and it was traditional to back away from a royal presence.

Once we got to know each other, of course, we realized that other people “backing away slowly” from us had much less to do with deference and a whole lot more to do with protecting their sanity or even their private parts.

In any event, nobody wanted to frighten Bo, (evidently some people still think this is possible) so his parents just carried on as if losing what looked like a great white’s chomper was normal.

They said he should go on to bed because they were sure he’d be getting some tooth fairy money in the morning.

Bo headed off and my sister, Vanessa, took one more look at that distinctive long, pointy tooth and said,

“You’re gonna need a bigger dollar.”

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