I bent down to give him a hug and noticed the huge gap in the front of his mouth.
“Hey! What happened to your teeth?”
“That’s my surprise! I told Grandma not to tell you – my two incisors fell out. I got $3 each!”
I told him that now we looked alike, and I pulled out my braces, revealing my missing eyetooth. He had already seen this trick, so wasn’t overly impressed. He asked me to remind him why I needed plastic teeth, and I told him my adult teeth never grew in. But I assured him that his would.
“Aunt Jenny – when we go bowling, don’t forget to put your teeth in, or people will make fun of you.”
“Do I look hideous without my teeth?”
“No. But I just don’t want people to laugh at you.”
“You’re right. I should put them back in.”
I dropped my bag on the floor of my six-year old nephew’s bedroom. He was temporarily displaced for the weekend, but happy to be camped out in a sleeping bag in his older brother’s room.
“I got my room all ready for you. We put new sheets on the bed!”
Pale blue flannel that matched the dark blue bedspread. Tiny cowboys atop bucking horses, with lassoes twirling above their heads. I looked around the room and saw a red bandana hanging from one of the antlers of the deer skull in the corner. I wondered if I would dream of the wild West – of campfires and cowgirls, ranches and wranglers – but I didn’t. Instead, I dreamed of Gollum, his imaged locked firmly in my brain after sitting through several hours of the Lord of the Rings trilogy before realizing that I didn’t care what happened to the ring.
It was my older nephew’s 9th birthday, so his mother planned a bowling party for him and nine of his friends. I volunteered to chaperone and act as official photographer, accepting the intense pressure of being the designated photo-documentarian for a skilled scrapbooker such as my sister-in-law.
“I’m picturing the layout right now – there are ten boys and ten pins. I’ll have them all lined up like bowling pins, so you’ll need to get individual photos of each of them standing straight.”
Within moments of meeting all the boys, I had identified my favorites. There was Nick, the tall one with the soft voice wearing the grey shirt. He’s a nice one. He smiled sweetly and congratulated each of the boys as they stepped off the lane.
“Nice job! High five!”
And Scott. So tiny I could put him in my pocket.
“Should I smile?”
“Yes, you can smile. Just be sure to stand really straight.”
Evan reminded me of Harry Potter, with even finer features. He has perfect enunciation, according to my brother, which makes me like him all the more.
“Open my card first! I picked it out myself – it’s so funny!”
The card wasn’t all that funny – I think it was a pun about being one in a million – but he picked it out himself and his smile was infectious. I didn’t know boys bought each other cards, but they all did. Nick’s was handmade, of course.
That other boy – the one who drooled as he showed no one in particular how he could fit his entire mouth around a plastic cup, the one who hoarded the orange bowling ball even though it was the only one light enough for most of the boys to carry, the one who stole my younger nephew’s most powerful Yu-Gi-Oh! cards – he’s the one I would watch out for. He stands at my brother’s front door, sometimes for 20 minutes straight without ringing the bell. He just stands there, hoping someone will pass by and invite him in.
“Feel how heavy my present is! It only costed $20!”
The one who, like most of these boys, has not yet mastered tact.
My nephew calls him up, “I really hate you for stealing my cards, but I don’t have anyone else to play with, so do you want to come over?”
He says sure.
I watch in awe as the boys devour the birthday cupcakes, wiping orange and blue frosting on their pants and sleeves before continuing the game.
“Aunt Jenny, can you make sure you don’t eat any of the candy in my room?”
“None of it?”
“Well, you can have a Snickers. I have three of them.”
“I’ll try my best, but sometimes I eat candy in my sleep.”
“Even with your plastic teeth? Okay. I’ll put it in a drawer, then.”
As I fluff the cowboy pillow and pull up the cowboy sheets, bathed in the soft glow of the cowboy nightlight, I think how nice it is to have someone to remind me to put my teeth back in.

Filed under: General on March 27th, 2007