Brace Face

The day has arrived. What day, you ask? The inevitable day when the un-
conquerable power of genetics cruelly forces your eldest child to pay for the sins (or crooked teeth) of his parents. Between Bill and I, we knew well before we decided to have children that a "braces fund" would be advisable. Or good dental insurance. Or some combination of the two. Check out the chompers on this handsome kiddo. "Before."


"During". Looks really com-
fortable, right? Super fun stuff. His Ortho-
dontist assured him they were using state of the art techniques that are much gentler on the mouth than even a few years ago. Not sure if William was convinced. Looking at this photo, not sure if I blame him.


And here is the "After". (Or should I say the "during" with the "after" to emerge 18-20 months later). William was hoping to have them off in time for Halloween. You should have seen the horrified look on his face when I had to break it to him that they would be off in time for Halloween 2013. He was a great sport smiling for me for this photo while waiting for the congratulatory milk shake. There wasn't a mirror, or window or other type of reflective surface that didn't go unchecked while he got used to his new smile. Several hours later, the pain was pretty torturous and even "no-chicken noodle" soup was too solid for him too eat. Being mildly intrigued by the metal in his mouth turned very quickly to disdain as he realized this was his new reality. Poor kiddo. I told him he would hate us today and be so grateful when he is 30 for parents who paid good money for him to endure the most exquisite torture he has ever known (to date.)