Orthodontic Metaphors

  The time I have been dreading since my little son entered the world, all slimy and squishy and sweet, has arrived. He is on the precipice of teenagerhood, and that most horrendous rite of passage since the first pimple is looming in our future. That's right, terrified readers. My poor child is facing the medieval torture device known by the innocuous sounding name of "braces."
    I had to have braces at his age. Because, in addition to being blessed with not the obligatory first pimple, but a whole planetarium on my face, I was also fortunate to have my teeth grow in sideways. This condition is perfect for a sideshow act, unless that sideshow is Junior High School, which is sort of a giant, claustrophobia-inducing version of headgear in itself.
   This segues perfectly into the next fear I wish to discuss: the actual headgear. I love my son dearly, and everyone else should love him as well, or they they will face the wrath of the minivan mom with scary hair. Therefore, I was relieved to learn that generally headgear is now worn INSIDE the mouth, where it is less visible to taunting teenagers.
   These poor children are all going through their own crises and can therefore be very mean, as they are under the false impression that stepping on the emotions of others is the best way to climb out of their teenage hole. I know, because I lived in that hole, and I attempted to climb up the braces of many a poor classmate as if they were ladders, worming my way out. Fortunately, I am very uncoordinated and never managed to get past the first rung, and remained the nerd that I am perfectly happy to be today. (It is no coincidence that braces are, in fact, shaped like ladders. It is a metaphor.)
   So, orthodontic technology has alleviated my anxiety on the psychological pain, but there is still the problem of the physical discomfort. I feel guilty for cramming so much metal into his mouth. Would YOU want it there? Not to mention the inconvenience. Do you realize how much extra time it will take him to get through airport security? Ha! As if we are going to any airports. I am afraid of flying...and of airports with their disorienting moving walkways and dark parking garages...and of driving to them in the first place...
   I must stop talking about airports immediately and return to a more cheerful topic, before I have a panic attack. So, let's talk about the orthodontist bill instead. That laughing gas in the office should be utilized for more than the dental procedures themselves. In fact, I am going to suggest they keep an extra stash of sedatives to hand out with the invoices.