Poor me

Have ya ever just wanted to throw a tantrum? A really good one with all the bells and whistles? Well, I wanted to throw a one today. One that involved rolling around on the ground screaming and crying. One that required fist pounding and holding my breath until I turned a lovely shade of purple (with just a bit o' scarlet thrown in to deepen the color and make me truly scary).

But, instead...I resigned myself to the fate of having to wear my braces for one more month. Yes, my dream tantrum was about braces. I've had the stinkin' things for 4 years. I was supposed to have them for 3 years, but apparently they (my teeth) are not cooperating. Last month my tormentor...um...I mean Orthodontist worked his magic on a gap that was refusing to close. He basically did the equivalent of put my top teeth in a vice and twist until they were all pushed together nice and snug. He then went one step further and wired the offending gap closed to ensure it would stay that way. Well, 4 weeks later I'm back in the chair and a new gap has appeared. My orthodontist thinks my teeth are conspiring against him. I think he's crazy to think that they have a will of their own (well....I'm sure Liz would think that, too)...but ya know, I'm starting to think that maybe he's right!