The Curmudgeon


Sunday, January 13, 2019

The Father of Teeth

Text for today: Premolars xvii-xxxix

Later that day the Father of Teeth came upon the breeding pits, and saw the pregnant women whooping and squealing as their feet were stirruped and their swellings massaged, while the obstetricksters donned their ceremonial cagoules in veneration towards the breaking of the waters. The Father of Teeth wandered from breeding pit to breeding pit, and grinned down upon the women until he was requested to stop because there was enough screaming already.

"Why do they scream so loudly?" inquired the Father of Teeth.
"From mere exhilaration," the obstetricksters assured him; "they are possessed by the joy of the bundles they squeeze out."

Indeed, the joy of the bundles was nearly equal in volume to the exhilaration of the breeders. Urgently in need of quiet, the Father of Teeth made his way past the breeding pits until he came to the intricate system of pipes whereby the bundles of joy were delivered unto the world. Teams of obstetricksters, assisted by some of the stronger women, had equipped themselves with long poles and were straining and pushing at something inside the pipes.

"Why do you push so strenuously?" inquired the Father of Teeth.
"Simple overproduction," the obstetricksters explained; "there is so much joy that the pipes become blocked, so the bundles need hurrying along."

Even as he spoke, a bushel of bundles was sent screeching and tumbling into the pipe, efficiently filling up what small space the team had cleared.

"One could almost believe," observed the Father of Teeth, "that the world might be suffering an excess of joy;" for which deadly insult the obstetricksters menaced him with their poles, and the women shrieked and clawed at his eyes until he finally took the hint.


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