Silly ways to brighten your March

    Greetings from the Ridge.
    I had no idea what I was getting into, but when I’m dealing with Jill that’s often the case. Jill Briggsly ranks toward the top of our small town’s nutty characters and predictability is not her forte. The invitation arrived in the mail: “A surprise birthday! My house, 2 p.m. Tuesday. No gifts.” I made a wild guess that since Jill was hosting the surprise, it wasn’t her birthday and I couldn’t even bring a birthday card since I didn’t know whose birth date we were celebrating. We trudged through the snow at the appointed hour and were greeted by a birthday cake and candles, a pot of coffee, and enough crepe paper streamers to outfit a small Homecoming float.
    There’s no need trying to outguess Jill because it can’t be done, so we sat around her living room wondering just who in the heck we were commemorating. That’s when Jill stood up in her dress (chosen especially for the occasion) and announced that her dentures were 35 years old. I’m not kidding. We’d come to a birthday party for a set of false teeth. Jill gave a short testimonial speech about how her dentures had been with her for three and a half decades, how they’d been faithful through tough T-bones and corn on the cob, how they’d soaked silently each night in the cup beside her bed, and by the looks of them - she did not take them out - they’d last another decade. We sat there with our own dentures agape, silently asking ourselves if we’d truly just heard what we thought we’d heard.

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