September 27, 2017 by Petrea
Wilma Wednesday: Teef
“Where are my teef?”
Wilma had some teeth pulled.
“The doctor took them, Wilma.”
“Where did he put them?” She licks her gums, looking for them.
“That’s a good question. I should have asked for them. Open wide for the toothbrush.”
“Neuwp.” She clamps her jaws shut.
This hurts her more than it hurts me, which is saying a lot, because I feel pretty bad. Wilma had an infected tooth and some loose ones that had to come out. She’s never had any trouble eating so we didn’t notice until too late. The doctor made me feel better by saying Wilma could have come to us from the shelter that way.
“Please let me brush your teeth. If we keep them nice the doctor won’t take more.”
“He thtole them?”
“No…I…I told him it was okay to take them.”
Her brow goes up and her lower lip goes down. She looks confused and hurt at the same time. “Why did you give him my teef?”
“Those teef—teeth—could have made you sick.” This doesn’t make either of us feel any better. “They had to go, honey. I’m sorry.”
She looks down at the toothbrush.
“What will you give me if I let you bruff?”
She opens her mouth. This might be easier than I’d thought.