Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: Blowout (04/28/11)
TITLE: Why My Dentures Are Broken
By Donna Powers
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ADD TO MY FAVORITES
Anyone with a lick of sense woulda done what I did.
After all, I did what those chatterboxes told me to do. And they laughed at me and acted like I’m addlepatted.
Just a while ago, I was sleeping soundly in my recliner, dreaming of Errol Flynn when some gum-cracking teenager came over and shook me.
She bent close to me and shouted loud enough to wake the dead.
Which I ain’t.
“C’mon, Regina, you have to get ready,” shouted the gum-cracker.
”For what,” I asked her.
“C’mon, Miss Reggie; you know what today is.” She pranced over to my closet, casual as you please and started going through my duds. ”Missy, if I knew what to get ready for, I wouldn’t say I didn’t. And I’ll thank you to stop pawing through my dresses.”
She laughed. “Oh, Regina, you’re such a kidder. It’s your 101st birthday, of course. You need to get dressed; your family’s coming for lunch.”
Lunch: creamed chipped beef on petrified toast. In my day, we called that stuff…
“Mama! Why aren’t you ready?” shrieked some harpy in a bright pink dress. Wait… she’s not a stranger. She’s my sister, Nettie.
“Nettie, what are you doing here?”
“Oh, Mama, stop,” scolded the harpy. “You know Aunt Nettie’s dead. I’m Stephanie, your daughter.” She turned to the teenager. “Why isn’t she dressed yet? The family’s coming in 15 minutes.”
The teenager yanked a dress from the closet and turned to face Nettie. “Well, she’s a bit sleepy this morning; we’re just getting started.”
Nettie shook her head. “Well, let’s get her dressed.”
Well, I swear they musta thought I was a rag doll; the way they yanked my nightshirt over my head and washed me so quick I thought I was in one of them newfangled car washes. Next thing I knew; my room was full of people I’d never seen before.
They sure seemed to think they knew me. They were callin’ me Mama and Gramma and Auntie Regina. Some looked just like Nettie, but I didn’t remember them. Hmph. They surely looked like family, but I swear I didn’t know them.
Suddenly, it felt really warm in my room. I looked around a window, to cool down the room.
That’s when I saw the fire.
For Pete’s sake; couldn’t anyone else see it? There were about 20 flames right in front of me. “Hey! Put out that fire!” I shouted.
But the people all laughed.
”Oh, Grandma,” said some woman in a blue shirt. “It’s not a fire. It’s your birthday cake. Blow out the candles.”
What was she talking about? I didn’t see any birthday cake. “It’s not my birthday. And I don’t know who you people are.”
There was another round of laughter. Honestly; I have no idea what the fuss was all about. Everyone was talking at once; and it was starting hurting my head. I just wanted a headache powder - and to get back to my dream.
“C’mon, Mama,” shouted the one who looks like Nettie. “Blow out the candles.”
Surely, there was a fire department in this burg, but …OK… I’d do it – if it would shut up this mob and put out the fire. So, I gathered my breath, heaved myself forward and blew as hard as I could.
But my lungs just weren’t up to the task.
I was coughing to beat the band, but Blue Blouse kept saying, “Blow them out, Grandma.”
One thing I’ve learned, in my life: if you want something done right, you gotta do it yourself. I knew I didn’t have another big breath inside me,but none of those wiseheimers looked as though they were going to help, so I looked around for some water.
That’s when I saw my dentures, floating in their cup full of water. I picked up the whole thing and threw it at the fire.
Pfffft. The flames went out. I’m not sure where my teeth went, but they don’t fit too well, anyhow.
You’d think they’d be grateful, but they weren’t. They talked a whole bunch more but then Nettie told them I ‘just wasn’t myself’ today and then everyone walked out of my room.
“Happy birthday, Grandma,” Blue Shirt mumbled at me, as they retreated.
Well, fine. So they didn't thank me for saving your hides. Like I said; they’re all a bunch of ingrates.
Now… can I get back to Errol Flynn?
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