Thursday, September 11, 2008
I have a broken mouth. Not because of gingernuts or my penchant for foul language, but because I broke a tooth a year or so ago on a nacho. That tooth was weak and it had to go. It has not had any impact on my life. I'm funny lookin, with or without tooth... but I'm fun to be around and have many new and old friends, some who have been pashed, some who have not.
My parents called tonight and said they'd pay for the tooth to be fixed. I love my folks. They are a complete triumph of love. Everything that bullies love and truth into hatred and discord they've fought against, and they're still hopelessly lost without each other after 35 years. They are my ideal of love. If I'm lucky enough to meet my woman who knows, she will most likely get on with my Mum and Dad.
Despite my admiration and love for them they have a fascination with my broken tooth.
I think a lot of it comes from the fact that next year as my younger brother gets married I have to stand up and give a spectacular speech as his best man. I believe that they are worried about my appearance. That annoys me.
I can stand in front of people. I can speak in front of people. These things I have never had a problem with. But, to appease my darling parents, I will fix the tooth.
However I will not wear pants during the ceremony.