She was the sweetest, most adorable grandmother a little boy could ever wish for. But seriously, couldn’t she have kept those dentures soaking in a glass next to her bed? Nope! Not my funny grandma. For some odd reason, she wanted her pearly whites to nestle overnight in a drinking glass upon a sink in the upstairs bathroom.
The bathroom sat between my room and her temporary room, with my parent’s slumber zone across from us. On the other side of my bedroom wall, where my head and bed rested, grandma’s teeth lurked only 5-feet away. More disturbing, is the fact that she set the false choppers in a thick clear drinking glass she nabbed from the kitchen sink. Maybe that would be my clear milk container a day later at breakfast time - yikes! The glass exemplified, I said magnified, I mean grotesquely amplified those choppers into becoming a living legend in our family.
Why the heck did she set those monsters on the edge of the sink that was less than a foot from the toilet? I mean like, reach out and bite someone. "Devour the little kid," the living glass screamed to me! I had to stand there in fear and stare at her teeth. You could never take your eye off of them. Not for a single moment. I swear they glared straight back at me and I had to pee. For heavens sake man. How does a frightened 8-year old little guy manage to hit a bulls-eye in the tank when he is shivering and shaking endlessly at the sight of grandma’s falsies growling at him? I was no marksman when grandma came for the weekend. Granny’s teeth had eyes.
Grandma shared the bedroom with my little sister on the other side of the bathroom. A little sister is born for one reason only: to be tormented by an older brother, period! At my age back then, a little sister was not a friend, nor an ally, and not to be considered even a girl. A little sister was a target. BAM! I can’t tell you how badly I wanted to put my hockey gloves on, carefully grabbing that horrendous glass and whisking it around the corner: destination – little sister’s nightstand. Wouldn’t it have been the most glorious of pranks to have replaced Annie’s (lil sis) overnight bedside glass of water with granny’s gleaming dentures? Doh! The thought of dad rushing across the short hallway at the screams of my sister’s horrifying discovery in the middle of the night when she went to take a drink, is a big brother’s dream. That’s like winning an Academy Award for deviant brotherhood.
“And the winner is, Charlie Nitric” (standing ovation and applause). “I would like to thank my grandmother’s fangs for making this outlandish honor possible.” Unfortunately, my dream was no match for the nightmare in a glass. There was no way I was going to challenge grandma’s teeth. I can’t help to recall recently watched “Creature Features” before bedtime on a Saturday evening. They were a series of B-flick horror movies viewed on TV. Like her chatterers would become “juiced” from a lightning bolt on a stormy night, those things could burst through a glass and chow on me in an instant. I wasn’t going to have any part of that business, no matter how much a little sister deserved to be frightened. Grandma’s teeth were like “Swamp Thing” that gorged humans, like “King Kong” crushing cars, and like “Godzilla” that stormed Tokyo.” Imagine the nightmare of hundreds of oriental guys, scorched in terror and poorly choreographed English voice-overs, screaming in Japanese while grandma’s teeth ate them. No one messes with my grandma’s teeth.
While it has been many moons since my grandmother passed on, and God rest her soul, the legacy of her funny ways will never be forgotten. My grandma was a sweet, kind-hearted vintage woman. Each day in her presence was a joy. She always had a pleasant demeanor and was happy and gentle with everyone she encountered. However, at nighttime while grandma slept, her gruesome teeth were a petrifying sight in a transparent glass not far from my face on the other side of a thin old wall. One day those teeth could eat through sheet rock. Grandma’s pearly whites are alive!