Filed under: The Art of Randomness
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Bam Bam investigates the camera.
Will you PLEASE get a load of this pic that is pushing Cuteness to it’s XREME limits.
Jazz Paws.
Rule of Cuteness NUMBER 40 OMG.
-Jiawern
So what have we learnt today?
I have nice teeth. After twenty-odd years, I have but one conclusion: brush your teeth every day. Why? Because teeth are all that stands between you and the next bacon on the counter. Now start wondering why you are reading this post.
When I was young, people used to say I have perfect teeth. Unlike the other children (bah! peers!) of those long gone days, my baby teeth had the tendency to fall off much later than theirs. When the kids were playing in the field I was brushing my teeth in the washroom. When the kids were cuddling Barbie dolls I was there gargling Listerine. When the kindergarten teachers were rounding out the kids after recess, I was in a corner keeping ‘em all shiny with my omnipotent tooth brush.
I was a HYPERACTIVE child those days (am still now, but you already know that). I cannot sit still; my teachers complain because I try to be on every single class room table at once, cardboard cuttings that litter the floor mysteriously vanish into my lunchbox, I make and lose friends faster than I can start sharing lunch with them.
So, imagine this: a miniature Harry Potter running around kindergarten, stomping the ground with my tiny feet. Because of my lack of immobility skills, I would usually be brought forward to give short introductions on a class-play or speeches for sports days or the drummer boy for the band or the loud speaker of the recess bell. See how the autocratic teachers try to keep me on a short leash? Which was good because I swear if they didn’t made me the man I am today; I would be burglarizing your home or maybe kidnapping kittens for my next meal.
Back to my teeth.
I was playing hide-and-seek one day when some friend (not anymore, I don’t think so) pushed me and I slipped. So, naturally, I fell. Take a guess what happened next.
KAPWIIINNNGG!!
There goes my front right incisor. CHIPPED AND BEYOND REPAIR. Let me I ask you, if you’re trying to maintain the one and only thing that distinguish you from all the other hooligans in school, and the forces-that-be (or that guy whom I’m-not-so-friend-with-now) rob it away from you – ARGH!!! – wouldn’t you be more than SUPER UPSET?!
Let’s skip a few years to when I was going for the BCG jab which was given to standard six students (or whatever it is equivalent to when you’re 12 in Malaysia) when a nurse made such a fuss of the chipped teeth during health check. She was petrified that I had a chipped teeth. I mean, WHAT’S THE BIG DEAL?! So, the other kids swarmed to check out the commotion and took a piece of my dignity away.
To add salt to the wound, nurses made my section a quarantine zone. It was the longest 5 minutes in my life. I felt like I was on an alien abduction film with sanitary masked-nurses looking down on me wide-eyed. Or maybe I’m the latest Ebola-infected child in Malaysia. The commotion only ended when I finally JUST SHUT MY MOUTH (which is mom’s best advice to me ever since). It took my brain at least 30 seconds to work that out.
It’s not like every day that everyone in your class looks down at your tonsils. I was not going to open my mouth for the whole day. Rah.
It eventually fell off. Or did it? I don’t know, I didn’t bother to check. Not even now anyway.
I found it fun to reminiscence as to why babies do not have teeth during the weaning years.
In unrelated news, Things They Don’t Teach in Any Dental School.
Jia Wern
