Picture a loud, clanging factory with assembly lines zig-zagging all over the place, steam bursting out of pipes, and slick oil spills laying on cold, concrete floors. Then add blaring sirens, honking forklifts, and scraggly guys in cargo shorts and workboots trudging by with brooms now and then.
That chaotic jungle of a factory is sort of like the inside of my mouth. Yeah, it’s sad to admit folks, but I’ve got one messy mouthhole.
See, I’ve got a gap between my two front teeth. I had it filled it with white plastic so it’s invisible, but I still know it’s there. I remember sucking milkshakes and soup in through that Tooth Canal when I grew up and the memories haunt me still. Add to that a handful of black and white fillings dotting my molars like a checkerboard and a dangerous crossbite that wears down my pointy teeth, requiring pleasant maintenance fillings every couple of years. And let’s not forget that my bottom teeth are jumbled and cracked together like a rickety picket fence after a big blustery wind storm.
Most of my friends did the braces thing when they were younger and today they walk around town with confidence, sass, and perfectly straight teeth. After putting up with twisted-tight wires for a few years, they finally got them peeled off and joined the Perfect Pearls club with a punch.
And though I’ve never experienced it first hand, they tell me that slimy-smooth, new mouth feeling they got when the clamps came off can only be described with one big, all-caps word.
I’m just going to have to trust them on this one.
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