Aselin

My youngest two children have both started their orthodontic treatment. This has been a long time coming as we repeatedly had them assessed over the years only to be told their mouths weren't ready. Both of them have prominent misplacement of teeth that is extremely noticeable and we've been anxious to start some sort of enamel wrangling so we're not mistaken for hillbillies as often.

I know the old adage "be careful what you wish for" but I never thought it would rear it's ugly head in this department.

At the office the doctor called me back to instruct me on the operation of their appliances. OPERATE? Since when do I have to do anything but make sure they put in a headgear or two and drive them to their appointments? Orthodontics that comes with a manual?

Rounding the corner to the row of non-private patient chairs, I come upon Unnamed Child #3. Attempting to smile at me she parts her lips over the contraptions glued into her mouth and resembles a tortured Frankenhorse. I try not to look alarmed.

Then she attempts to speak. It sounds an awful lot like that game where you stuff 45 jumbo marshmallows in your mouth and attempt to sing a Mary Had a Little Lamb. Because I'm a juvenile at heart I burst into laughter. She has a look on her face, well, I can't really tell what it was because her lips were stretched over this thing called a lip bumper that pulls the bottom lip away from the lower jaw. The idea is to remove any counter pressure the lip would assert on the lower teeth. The effect makes one look and sound like the cleric in the Princess Bride.

I think I have everything under control when up comes Unnamed Child #2 speaking animatedly sounds and words I don't even begin to understand. I raise my hand in the Vulcan greeting sign and say "I come in peace." I laugh, the doctor laughs, surrounding patients laugh. Unnamed Children #2 and #3 are not laughing. (I'll make a contribution to their therapy jar later).

The doctor begins to explain how twice a day I need to take a pin on a stick, insert it into a tiny hole located in a contraption spanning the roof of each child's mouth. Then I'm supposed to crank that pin as far as it will go. He demonstrates, both children have the same look of horror on their faces as the contraption, the "expander" pushes outward, expanding their palate.

"Gffrrwtun bleesh weebrt." Unnamed Child number two says earnestly. I nod, hoping I didn't just agree to buy him a pony.