Sylvie, my adopted mother, Sylvie and Josie.

Sylvie would tell us stories like this right from when I was a young age and really shouldn’t have been privy to some of the contents. She didn’t hold back and would go into great detail, having us all in fits of laughter, largely due to the fact that she herself would be nearly hysterical with laughter, almost wetting herself and tears rolling down her face. No matter how many times she told these tales, she never failed to get the same reactions.

Despite only being in her early thirties, Josie had none of her own teeth and needed to wear dentures. Unsurprisingly, the dentures were to become more fodder for Sylvie’s stories. My sisters and I were present for one incident but it didn’t stop Sylvie relaying the details time and again over the years in her usual hilarious fashion; Eating and cheese and tomato sandwich in our house one day, Josie suddenly put down her sandwich and started running her tongue vigorously around her teeth, top and bottom and each side of the insides of her cheeks. Stopping this action, she said, “Oh these bloody tomato seeds!” and promptly proceeded to remove her top denture and without any flicker of embarrassment or effort to conceal them, she turned the denture over, and ran her tongue along the underside to remove the seeds. With a quick inspection and satisfied look, she popped it back into her mouth and continued eating, totally oblivious to our open mouthed, stunned reactions.

On another occasion, on one of their trips to Alconbury, Sylvie and Josie were stood at the bar having a drink when one of their companions, a tall, well-built American airman, arrived to join them and greeted Josie with a playful and exuberant slap on the back and a loud “Hi there Josie!” At this point Sylvie loved to relate with elaborate gestures the way Josie’s dentures flew out of her mouth and whizzed along the bar to land, smiling upwards at another airman who sat there drinking his beer. He took one look at the smiling teeth, put down his beer, looked at Josie with a raised, questioning eyebrow and with an American drawl of the Deep South, just said, “Excuse me Ma’am?”.  Apparently, Josie simply hopped down from her barstool, skipped along the bar, picked up her denture, popped it back into her mouth, said “Thanks very much,” then slid back onto her stool and continued her drink and chat as though nothing had happened.

 

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s