Now I floss all the time
The cast:
Me – a bit out of place and feeling awkward
V.V. – comfortable among her peers
R.E. – in her home and feeling like the great hostess that she is
G. – floss toting friend. Possibly one of the nicest people anyone could meet.
J. – bright eyed, kind, what else can you say
M. and S. – mostly huddled in a corner talking amongst themselves
Unimportant side note: V.V. has known she is pregnant for about two weeks, but no one else knows. Besides me, that is. The pride I feel of being entrusted with this secret swells inside me and could erupt from my mouth at any moment. Instead of giving away this secret, I shoot meaningful looks at V.V. every time I hear the words “roller coaster,” “babies,” “sushi,” or the like. If only the fools knew to look…
I was at a party. I believe it was all girls. In fact, yes, it was all girls. The church-going type – very sweet, poised, and praising one another all the time, which would be a fault if they weren’t mostly just harmless and kind. Anyway, at this party they were serving spinach alfredo pizza. It was delicious! I ate a few slices, a-thank you very much! Then G., someone I sort of knew, pulled out little travel flossers and started flossing her teeth. I paid no attention...that's a little weird...whatever. Not taking the hint, she proceeded to ask me if I would like one. "No thanks!" Who flosses in public anyway? She insisted. Being the type to give into peer pressure, I accepted in order to make her happy. A few teeth in, and despite the faint taste of blood, I feigned a sincere smile and said, "These are great." That was the moment I realized the flosser was stuck. Time sort of stopped as I rapidly grew claustrophobic and felt the impulse to pull out the flosser; even if it meant losing a tooth in the process. The plastic handle protruded from my mouth like some horrific snaggletooth. I excused myself because, at the time, I didn't make a habit of flossing regularly. I didn't know how to extract this travel-companion floss from my teeth. In a blaze of thoughts I debated whether it would be better to lose a tooth in the children’s bathroom or the master bathroom. I chose the latter. I hurried through the doorway, past the pristinely sheeted bed, and looked in the mirror. The sight was worse than I anticipated. I had spinach in nearly every tooth crevice and those that were spared were bleeding profusely from the flosser. I looked like I needed to be institutionalized. After some swift maneuvering, the floss came out. My pride long gone, I went back and asked her for another flosser (because now I knew there was much more spinach to remove)...I continued to bleed, but that eventually subsided. I can still remember her grimacing face...she must have been disgusted. Oh well...just another day in the life. All of that to say, I floss semi-regularly now. I also learned that spinach pizza is best reserved for eating in the privacy of your own home.
