Submission (#994) Approved

Words: 501
ES Reward should be 10 ES

Castor didn’t often imagine himself as the type to have a keepsake, but as the years flickered before him, he realized some things just seemed special. His keepsake, as you might call it, was his sons’ first baby fangs. Now, he knew it was a little odd to keep, but every time he saw them, he reminded of tiny kebanzu climbing his legs and begging their dad to tell them a story. He remembered their too big paws and the barely suppressed giggles when his wife Dawn said something funny, something he’s sure she wanted to pretend he couldn’t hear. And of course, he remembered the day Atlas and Zephyr lost their fangs.
Atlas, being older, was the one to lose them first and Castor still remembered that high pitched crying as Atlas hugged his leg. The poor boy thought he did something wrong to his fangs and that his teeth would all fall out. Castor remembered laughing and squeezing his son tightly, promising that there was nothing wrong with a few lost teeth. They were making room for his adult fangs, and it was all part of growing up. Castor was sure he could live to three hundred years if he could only remember that sweet cry soaked face, trying so hard to smile and show how brave it was.
Zephyr, being the youngest, was the second one to lose his fangs and luckily Castor actually mentioned it would happen. Just so he wouldn’t have a repeat of a terrified son. However, Zephyr had demanded for his adult fangs to grow immediately and whimpered nonstop that the teeth growing in were uncomfortable. Castor remembered a couple of sleepless nights where he had to stay up and hold ice in his boy’s mouth, unable to do anything other than deal with his bratty Zephyr. Still, he remembered the way his boy smiled a toothless smile and hugged him tightly for the help.
Yes, this was a weird keepsake to have, but Castor liked his memories and knew they were a way for him to still feel connected to his adult sons. They both had their own lives and while they did visit, it wasn’t the same as when they were in the same house. It wasn’t the same when he couldn’t hear sneaking paws at night, or the suspicious giggles as his sons made off with snacks from the kitchen. Don’t get him wrong, he’s thrilled that his sons have become fine adults and made their own lives, he just missed the simple days. So, if he needed two tiny bags of his sons’ baby fangs to remind him of the good old days, wasn’t that fine?
He could hold them and imagine the entire childhood of his sons and know that him and his wife did a good job of raising them. He was proud to call his boys his sons and prouder still about the lives they were making for themselves. Castor loved his sons and treasured every memory.