I’ve been thinking about tooths and claws lately. The items Nature is famously red in. Coincidentally, I have new Invisalign braces, and kittens.

And yes, being apprentice cats, they are 98% pudding and lint, but the rest is damn pointy.

It could be, and has been, said that Clifford, my male black kitten, bites. He is a little bitey to be sure. But I’m paying attention, and he is not biting down per se, or attacking, but more chewing. Which, when you are equipped with stilettos instead of molars, feels aggressive. Still, it doesn’t seem like an attack. Maybe chewing makes his baby teeth feel better or maybe he’s wondering if I might be a codfish. He wouldn’t be the first.

He is also clawy. Again, he is not clawing at people or furniture, but availing himself of his pointier bits to get some elevation. I’m sympathetic to that. Clifford is in many respects the sweeter of my two kittens, although they both show promise, but the sucker is damn pointy nonetheless. He is not as athletic as his sister Wally, who can jump cleanly up on laps and furniture. So he has to claw his way up things. Which means that I do not necessarily have a shitty-cat situation but merely a conundrum that could be remediated if I wore Carhartts.

Embryonic cats get their teeth nubbins very early. Humans do too, exhibiting tooth potential well before genitals show up. Why do we mammals get our pointy bits so early? What’s out there we need to be prepared for?

Maybe they’re for mom. The teeth aren’t evident at birth. If they were, it would lead, evolutionarily speaking, to an abrupt cessation of lactation, because what the hell, dudes. When the teeth do erupt, it’s a sign to the mother to start hauling in meat on the hoof. The kids are equipped. Time they got off the damn sofa and pounced their own dinner for a change.

They’re ready early. Humans, they’re just a little damp package with a big wobbly head for, like, years. When they do get teeth they’re cute little knobs. They can get you past the strained carrots but apple skin is still a challenge. Evidently those teeth are just holding the adult teeth’s place for a few years while your face embiggens.

The fetal mammal has cells that are thinking about being teeth and cells that are thinking about being jawbone, and they make a project of it together. So the tooth sockets in the jawbone form around the tooth buds, and then later on when the adult teeth come in they just park their enameled fannies in the same sockets, presumably now farther apart. But wait. There are twelve more teeth coming in than we started with. New sockets have to be formed. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen a photograph of a child’s skull but it’s packed to the rafters with thirty-two teeth. There are teeth jammed practically up to the eyeballs. It’s a horror show in there.

My baby teeth were just fine. All lined up like little National Guardsmen. But when my adult teeth were getting ready to make an appearance, suddenly it was like when the teacher calls recess and goes out to her car for a smoke and a shot of Jack. Pandemonium.

God bless America. Teachers used to set up games for us assuming all of us kids were interchangeable. We were not. I was the littlest and most squishable person in the class and Garland Moran was on his third go at first grade. Garland Moran was mountainous. When we played musical chairs, Garland would put three chairs in eclipse at once and flick me aside along with my aspirations. And when the music stopped, he used my head as a pivot point and I ended up sideways between two folding chairs with Second Bubba one chair back, exactly like my left lateral incisor.

The top incisor situation can only be explained by a rough intramandibular game of dodgeball.

If Clifford’s permanent teeth come in sideways, I’d be okay with that.