Braces. Ew.
Ever sucked on a penny? I have. When I was younger, age 2 or 12 or something, I wanted to see how germy they really were. I think that's when my half baked rebellion started. Any way, I put one in my mouth and gave it a good taste. With a shiver, I spit it out in a wink.
That awful taste, the awful dry feeling in my mouth, is absolutely nothing compared to my time with braces.
When I got the eight (extra thick may I add) spacers, I ended up having one fall out before I even got through a full twenty four hours. So I went back in the morning, teeth sore, and gums swollen, to get the wretched thing replaced. Which, hurt a lot. So once all eight were intact, I had a whole week before I could get the actual braces. A week of next to no eating because I couldn't even touch my teeth together without wincing.
Two hours of my life I'll never get back were the two I spent in the orthodontist's chair getting metal glued to my teeth. The glue tastes awful.
Just so you know the hygienist will try to talk to you while you've got a combination of plastic, rubber and metal in your mouth. Please note, they will also expect you to answer their questions.
So here I am, almost a year later, with an oral surgery and patch up oral surgery to boot. Sitting on the leather couch that I hate with my soul, listening to a song by Pure Bathing Culture that I hate with my soul but I'm to lazy to change. Trying not to complain anymore than needed about the adjustment to my braces I got today.
Braces are the devil. Period.
There, changed the dang song.
Now it's Show Me What I'm Looking For by California Liar.
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