Tin Grin

For a small fee, you too can participate in a bona fide right of passage.  It isn’t quite as exhilarating as that initial spin behind the wheel after getting your license to drive, or as thrilling as drinking that first legal beer, or as satisfying as voting for the winning Presidential candidate, but somewhere down the road you will be glad you endured the pain, agony and name calling of loyal friends, when your pearly whites are picture perfect (does that sound convincing enough? I have told my progeny this over and over, until at least I believe that this major financial expenditure in the well-being and redemption of my child’s features will be worth it and he will, sometime down the road, be forever grateful that his father and I put him through this anguish.)

My mini-me, who is a mere 371 days shy of becoming a teenager, has passed over this symbolic threshold and has begun the journey of no return.  He has had his braces put on over the slightly irregular choppers the good Lord gave him (which look distinctly like my love muffin’s – of which I may advise those of marrying age… to take a gander what is under the chassis and hood of your betrothed and know that eventually, if reproduction of your species is in the picture, that those (now) cute imperfections will eventually be passed on to the next generation and may cost you big money to fix, enhance or change).

When I was told years ago, during one of the first dental visits, that my child probably would not need any appliances (and I am not talking refrigerators, washers or dryers… not even a toaster, can opener or food processor), I jumped for joy, I cheered from the rooftops.  I called friend and family alike, only to be deflated by the most well meaning of friends.  One comrade gave me the low down (i.e.  the truth and she would know, surviving two kids with braces) on what was really going to happen and, I must say, was rather gracious and kind (as in, she didn’t say she told me so) when I gave her a call to let her know she hit the nail on the head and we were indeed headed for the all inclusive (meals and accommodations not included), full barrage that is now offered to the “orthodontically” challenged.

My son bravely begins the journey where others before him have traveled.  Lovely terms of endearment -- such as “Metal Mouth”, “Brace Face”, “Train Brain”, “Tin Grin”, “Jaws” and strange humor that includes electricity and lip-locking jokes -- await him (which, since I never had the luxury of teeth confinement, cannot quite find the comedy in these monikers).  I already admire his tenacity, perseverance and drive to be able to sustain the next year and half of suffering and humiliation (fortunately half the kids in the school are in the same predicament) in the ultimate drive for that million-dollar smile.  Just as long as when he is older and someone comments on his teeth and how absolutely perfect and white they look, he will have committed to memory that his parents weren’t so bad and it really was a good investment (although that trip to Tuscany would have been nice – I am still working through some resentment), even though the first and second sets of teeth are free, it is worth the time and effort put forth… and since everyone notices your teeth, in all their glory (good, bad and the ugly), was money well spent.

Cynthia A. McClelland, curious observer of the obvious with interpretations of the oddities of daily life.  Mother, wife and lover of the furry, resides in the north Lake Tahoe area.

Cynthia A. McClelland © 2003-