The Royal Family
My dear brothers and sisters, be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to get angry. Your anger can never make things right in God’s sight. James 1:19-20
For years my husband has been trying to decide how to express himself without crossing the line. Being true to the rebel inside while still managing to appear appropriate at a business meeting is a delicate balance. Piercing and tattoos have been considered and rejected. I thought perhaps that in a few years a sports car, or heaven forbid – a dreaded motorcycle would take the place of this censored craving. I was wrong.
Jim doesn’t keep things from me. At least that was my opinion until yesterday. I had been living with the naïve perception that there were no secrets. Oh, I’m sure there are little irrelevant occurrences in each of our lives which are not (and need never be) disclosed. It has turned out that my theory of that which is relevant does not parallel his.
Imagine this. I have just arrived at home and my husband soon follows. He has been to the dentist. I knew this. The appointment had been on the kitchen calendar for some time. He had gone to receive a crown on one of his teeth. This is not an unusual occurrence and I had no reason to be suspicious. Almost immediately after his arrival (in fact, he had not yet removed his coat…) he began grinning with his lips perfectly sealed. He was pleased as punch about something and looked like he could hardly contain himself. I was curious, but in no way prepared for what happened when his grin turned to a full-fledged laugh. “It was the same price,” he said, as the shiny gold tooth sparkled and nearly blinded my aghast eyes. I was stunned. Apparently there are comparable displays of metal, more recently referred to as ‘grills’ on MTV, in Hollywood, and in the mouths of gangstas in most large cities. Who would have known I was so uninformed?
Okay, I consider my husband to be a very handsome man. In truth, I think he improves with age. But a gold tooth?! My frame of reference for gold teeth takes me all the way back to my childhood in the early 60s. Several of my aged relatives sported similar wares when they smiled down at me from their towering elderly heights. I don’t think I’ve even seen a gold tooth since my grandfather died almost 20 years ago. Frankly, I’m a bit peeved at the dental office too. Why would they even offer such a novelty to a guy under 60? It’s targeting a totally inappropriate age group -like offering a Speedo to a centurion.
My second flabbergasted realization came just before I went to bed last night. Still trying to convince me that this shiny new appliance was a great idea, he tried a new tact. He told me that our son thought it would be a fine idea. Isaac KNEW about this? “When did you talk to Isaac?” Well last month of course, when we had gone to visit him at his new college in Virginia
Of course I will continue to love and adore him, and maybe even eventually appreciate his ridiculous gold tooth. Now that the shock has worn off, I can almost laugh about it. The entire episode makes me wonder whether I should do something wild and expressive myself – just to surprise him, as he did me. I thought about a nose ring, shaving my head, dying my hair a fabulous eggplant color, or perhaps a tattoo. No… he’d enjoy the tattoo way more than I would…
There is one thing, however, that seems rather appropriate about this entire incident. For the last six years, I have been privileged to work as the nurse at my daughter’s school. When visitors come through the front doors, they need to sign in and receive a name tag. For as long as I can remember, my husband has coerced the nice receptionists at the main office to promote his name to ‘King James’ when they are inscribing his tag. He has worn this label proudly. Isn’t it just fitting that now he’s got the gold crown to go with his title?
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