| When Grandpa starts to floss his tooth, We set the bleachers up. He takes his false teeth from his mouth And drops them in a cup. In the mirror we see him grin As he looks upon the prize. His one remaining tooth smiles back As pride lights up his eyes. He measures out a piece of floss, About four feet or more. And as he turns to face himself It drags across the floor. So carefully he lifts the hand That holds the captured end. Like chalk across the blackboard, We hear his elbow bend. With one end held against that tooth, The other end is found. Then grandpa—at a snail-like pace Begins the wrap around. When wrapped he does a little hop And twirls a dainty spin We see the tooth begin to shine As he flosses it again. So then we all stand up to cheer, He shyly takes his bow. And says, "I'm glad for your applause, Please listen to me now, "My tooth is an example That yours might well be lost, Unless you brush them everyday And make sure they all are flossed." —Grandpa Tucker |
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