Happy Birthday to Me!

A week late, maybe, but today I gave myself a present that will (hopefully) be around for a long time. At the ripe old age of … pick a number … I was fitted with orthodontic braces. The bottom row is normal metallic-looking, but the top row includes what they call clear braces, the almost-not-there kind of braces. They’re going to be on for at least 16 months.

A dear friend who is my age had her bottom teeth done about a year ago. Her husband, who is a couple of years younger than both of us, wanted to know why we were bothering with teeth straightening. He didn’t actually come out and say ‘… at your age’, but you could kind of hear it echoing there anyway. She told him it’s because we can’t afford to go for facelifts. He looked blank. I guess it’s a girl thing ….

I asked the orthodontist how old his oldest patient ever was and he said: ‘A man in his eighties.’ Next oldest, he added, was a retired professor in his sixties. I quickly changed the subject before he could go on to say ‘…and then there’s you.’

My mouth feels truly weird, all tight and constrained and odd. 16 months of this? I can’t even chew yet – soup for lunch, soup for supper – even the bit of bread I made all soggy and squashed up felt impossible to eat.

Dear God, maybe I’ll end up skinny after all! Skinny with glasses and braces? Hurrah, I’ve always felt like I missed out on being a real teenager, maybe I’m getting a chance to relive those years after all. So, bring on the hot boys! But come to think of it, these braces probably mean death to any dreams of romance for this single. Who’d want to kiss a forty-something with a mouth full of metal?

What was I thinking?!?!

Happy birthday to me!