Fred would be the boy who married the girl with the beautiful teeth, but of course at the time, we didn’t know this. Me, Fred, I’m sure even the girl didn’t see this one coming, although to hear her tell it now, thirty years later, you’d think she’d planned the whole thing all along. I’m staring at Shelly’s mouth, watching her form the words, but still having trouble keeping up with the conversation. I’ve never met a woman without perfect hindsight, I’m sure of it, and worse yet, sitting there staring at her mouth like that, I can’t stop thing about the Christmas Teeth.