White Teeth is a rather brilliant book on the life of immigrants in England through a couple of generations. I read it quite a while ago, but today the topic sprang back into mind. Not the immigrants, though, but the white teeth.
As I'm sure some people who may or may not stumble across this blog already know, I'm having a rather large project with my jaws and teeth, and I get to be 13 again and got braces (the orthodontic kind...) again last winter. Brushing my teeth has been a fairly mechanical operation ever since; how can you really judge the job when you can't even see your teeth from all the metal contraptions. I just brush for a while and that's it. But apparently that's not enough, and I got to go through a 60 minute training today on how to properly clean my teeth, and the whole operation is starting to feel like rocket science. I mean, I now have four different kinds of brushes for brushing my teeth and tonight I stood about 15 minutes in the bathroom trying to brush my teeth like the nice dental hygienist girl had instructed me. It's pure hell and I don't see myself investing 30 minutes every day for brushing teeth. It's just too much.
Anyway, 2-3 more years and then I'll have a nice smile, or so they tell me. Too bad I don't usually smile that much - such a waste...
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