This here bringer of the pooper to the fun party

You can just call me Human Xanax

Leta: Mom, am I going to have to get braces?

Me: Hm… that’s not something we can really tell right now. We’ll have to wait until you’ve lost more teeth and see how they all grow in.

Leta: I’m scared to get braces. I really, really, really don’t want get them. They look like they hurt.

Me: Well, I had them what? 23 years ago? And I only have one nightmare a week about them.

Leta: YOU HAVE NIGHTMARES? STILL?

Me: Oh yeah. It’s the same one, over and over again, too. At least once a week.

Leta: BUT—

Me: It goes like this… I show up to my six week appointment — that’s how the whole orthodontist thing goes, an appointment every six weeks or so, or at least that’s how it went 23 years ago — and I realize that I haven’t been wearing my rubber bands.

Leta: RUBBER BANDS?!

Me: Yeah, you hook these tiny rubber bands between teeth to help them move faster. Anyway—

Leta: RUBBER BANDS?!

Me: I’m lying there about to open my mouth and I know that he’s going to know that I haven’t been wearing my rubber bands. And that means that I’ll have to wear my braces for ANOTHER SIX WEEKS. UGH!

Leta: WHY ARE YOU TELLING ME THIS?

Me: This? What? OH! See, I don’t have nightmares about the pain! It’s not the pain that haunts me all these years later. It’s the idea that I might not have been the valedictorian of braces.

Leta: …

Me: What I’m saying is you have nothing to be worried about. Unless you forget to wear your rubber bands and then you’re screwed because hello weekly nightmares!

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