Braces!

Braces were cool. Everybody has them. They were a status symbol. I was psyched. Once I got braces, someone at school was bound to talk to me. Even though the boy at camp had regaled me with all the foods I would no longer be able to eat. I mean really, when you think about it, how hard is it to eat corn on the cob. Okay it is kind of hard, but I’m sure he’s wrong about the caramels. Not that I’m ever touching caramels again anyway. They are obviously evil. Losing one of my baby teeth to them might be considered luck of the draw. I mean it was loose. But yanking out two of them with those sticky bits of goo has forced me to conclude that caramels are minions of Satan. So even if he’s right I won’t miss caramels.

Plus I get to have my braces put on in stages. I think that makes them less cool, but apparently we have to wait for my upper teeth to grow in. Due to the caramel incident, I no longer have any baby teeth, but it turns out adult teeth don’t instantly appear to replace the baby ones. Bummer. So I only get to have bottom braces, but they come with nifty pink elastic. This will work. I’ll just smile a lot, and everyone will notice them and think how cool I am.

This won’t work. I am in agony. It feels like someone is trying to drill a hole in my skull. I want to curl up in a ball and die. On a side note it also hurts to eat, chewing only with upper teeth is impossible. Braces are not cool. They are clearly torture devices. We are now such a consumer society that we actually pay people to torture us and pretend to be helping. Worst part: no one at school even notices I have the damn things.

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