Pick Me!

A weblog by Laura Moncur


My Broken Tooth

Filed under: Personal History — Laura Moncur @ 5:00 am

Thursday 01-17-08 from Flickr

You might not be able to see it. Not because I had a good dentist or anything. It’s just that it’s not something that people really notice unless you’re missing a whole tooth. A tooth broken in half and haphazardly fixed with a bit of porcelain on the top held in by a metal pin is hardly noticeable.

The porcelain has worn away over the years and the metal pin has become visible, but you can’t even see it in this photograph.

In fifth grade, we were having a bake sale. My mom made some awesome brownies for the bake sale. They were dark, chocolately and they were decorated with half a walnut on the top of each one. They were beautiful, simple and I KNEW they would sell out immediately at the bake sale, so I wanted one of my own.

Unfortunately, she had put them in the green FAKE tupperware container. You know, the one that little fifth grade hands cannot open, not by design, but by lack of it.

I was determined to have a brownie before I relinquished them to my teacher, so I took a butter knife and slide it under the lid of the container. I figured that with gentle prying, it would come off. It didn’t. I tried prying it harder, but the butter knife slipped out from under the edge of the lid and hit me square in the mouth.

I had a piece of tooth on my tongue and a bruised ego.

I have no idea where my mom was when I broke my tooth, but I got her. There was scolding and telephone calls to the dentist. They couldn’t get us in until the afternoon, so my mom sent me to school with a broken tooth in my mouth and the impenetrable box of brownies in my hands.

I visited the dentist while my mom’s brownies sold out at the bake sale. It didn’t matter. I never had money to buy things at the bake sale anyway. At least, that’s what I told myself. I never did get one of those brownies.

Over the years, I learned to smile without showing my bottom teeth (or upper gums, but that’s another story). If you look at my photos, you’ll hardly ever see my lower teeth because I have been hiding them for 28 years. When I look at that broken tooth now, it almost serves as a indicator of my gluttony. I wanted brownies for breakfast and I was punished for it. I still think of it with shame even though it was so long ago.

I really should get that tooth fixed…


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