BUSTED TOOTH

When I was in grade school I had a run in with my babysitters moving van. The effect being that my front, top left, incisor, was chipped off about an eighth of an inch. Of course, my parents got it fixed with the modern miracle of dental bonding. But chipping the front tooth of a rough housing little bastard only led to the piece being knocked out many, many times. I would guess that my parents replaced it about 7 or 8 times while raising me. I still can't honestly figure out why they didn't just sack me up in burlap with a bowling ball and take me to the river.

Fast forward to this year. Upon getting into my car to move to Kansas at the end of February, it fell out again. Shockingly it wasn't a fight this time that knocked it loose, it just fell freaking out. I lived with that snaggle toothed grin for 6 months because I had no dental insurance. That's the problem with starting a new job. How mortifying and ego crushing is that though? I got to begin my fresh Kansas start with a jacked up smile and feeling like a hillbilly.

The high point of this story is that I went yesterday and got it fixed. I noticed on my way out of the office, down the elevator and into the parking lot, that I was grinning like the Cheshire Cat. I was sparking up conversations not just there but all the rest of the day just to gleam my newly repaired grill. I obviously felt a lot better.

It's kind of lame when you think about it though. I was so subconscious about a stupid tooth and probably always will be. My self esteem is so dependent on something as trivial as that. I was freaked out at job interviews, smiled different to everyone (including family) and I had even been pushing off meeting people for photo gigs because I was so embarrassed. Question is, how many people really even gave it a second thought.

Well it's fixed now, so piss on it. Vanity is obviously my favorite sin.