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Pamela Longbottom tried to sneak a jawbreaker from her eight-year-old’s bag after returning home from trick-or-treating. Biting into the hard candy provoked a scream of pain, however, and an unexpected trip to their dentist. Having purchased dental coverage from a California Health Insurance agent eventually allowed her to smile again.

Pamela Longbottom, a single mom, decided to go out trick-or treating with Morticia, her pale-looking eight-year-old. She was pleasantly surprised when the choice of her daughter’s name was greeted positively for once by one of the family’s more astute neighbors. “Oh, I see you’re out with little Morticia,” Mrs. Joan Doe observed brightly, “on All Hallow’s Eve that seems right somehow.” The Doe’s were related to another family of Does down the block, John and Jane and their children Jack, Jubilee, and Tittera, who was in Morticia’s class at school. Doe was such an unusual name, Pamela mused.  It was at Joan Doe’s house when several jawbreakers were dropped blithely into Morticia’s bag, as the child flashed a jack o’ lantern smile through a forest of mixed fang-like teeth, baby and permanent.

The trouble began at home when Pamela started inspecting her daughter’s treats. When Morticia wasn’t looking, she stole a raspberry jawbreaker, hoping that her cherub wouldn’t notice. Pamela popped the hard candy into her gob, and stupidly bit down.  “Owwh!” she screamed. Morticia was horrified. “You stole one of my candies!” she bawled. “You’re sick!”

Pamela shot her progeny a look of sheer pain.

The next morning she visited her dentist, and thanked her lucky stars (she was into astrology) that the dentist’s bill for $467.52 would be covered under the comprehensive dental plan she’d purchased a few months earlier from a California Health Insurance agent. 

Back at home, Pamela was watching enviously as her daughter sucked the remaining jawbreakers, raspberry, strawberry, and peach, savoring them with her mouth partially open, each time,  it seemed, just to irritate her mother as Pamela was preparing a grocery list. Morticia would draw out the sucking and mouth movements in the manner of a feeding spider, making obnoxious noises and tongue gestures simultaneously. The display was hideous and finally, Pamela who was very distracted lost her patience. “Stop it Morticia!” she screamed.

“I will Mommy,” Morticia said, “but don’t you wish that Halloween came more than once a year?”

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Individual dental plans available from your California Health Insurance Agent might apply to saber tooth cat syndrome.

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Jack Daniels of Malibu Beach had loved to surf until the accident. The blonde-haired twenty-something possessed a marvelous physique and received plenty of covert glances from beautiful women on the beach every time he went surfing. But it was the surfing he loved. The glorious pursuit of aqueous perfection gave him goose bumps. He worried about sharks and barracudas and miscellaneous garbage tossed into the waves by careless jerks aboard pleasure craft, but it was the obvious that initially did him in.  One afternoon he grabbed his board and strolled out into the Pacific in moderate surf. Excited, as he was about to catch a wave, he smacked his face down abruptly with his mouth slightly ajar onto his red, white, and blue surfboard. His “problem tooth” snagged, the peculiar incisor sinking into the polyurethane a half inch deep, wedging solid. “With my head stuck like that,” Jack later told the television crew, “It was a miracle I didn’t drown.”

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He vowed never to surf again while that tooth was in his gob. As a boy of thirteen his mother had taken him to a dentist for the first and last time. “Open your mouth kid,” the dentist, “Call me Seymour,” had said. Jack was shy, but opened, only to have the insensitive dentist remark a little too loudly, “Oh boy. This kid has saber tooth syndrome. It’s still a baby tooth, but …”

Jack had learned not to smile. He was a good-looking teenager, but when he’d open his mouth and people saw it – they looked away. Now, the lonely ex-surfer had to do something about it.  But what? He didn’t have dental insurance. Jack finally worked up the courage to call a California Health Insurance agent, Mr. Louis B. Snaggle. “Hello. I don’t know if you can help me. I have s-s-s-aber tooth c-aaaa-t syndrome,” Jack managed.

“How long is it?” the friendly agent asked. Jack told him.

“Come right over. We can get you covered,” Mr. Snaggle reassured him.

A minor dental procedure later, Jack was back surfing. He didn’t see the garbage floating in the seawater until it was too late.

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