My Yellow Teeth
Last week, I signed a contract for Đạo’s Phase-One Orthodontic Treatment. It costs almost two grants after the special 20 percent off and 50 percent billed to my insurance. I have no idea if he needs it; therefore, I had to rely on the dentist to do what is best for him rather than trying pocket me.
As a father with bad teeth, I do not want my sons to go through what I had been through. From my sixth grade to my freshman year in college, I was known as “the Ching Chong with yellow teeth.” I was embarrassed, but hurt the most when some of my close friends joked about it. Although we were tight, which they must have felt beyond the comfort zone, I was disappointed. I laughed it off, but distanced myself from them.
I have always despise my yellow teeth. When I have to smile for cameras, I often do so without showing my teeth. I once asked my dentist for the whitening treatment, but he told me not to waste my money. I really like my honest dentist.
Nowadays no adults I had interacted with commenting on my teeth, but I can’t help marveling how white, consistent, and beautiful their teeth look. It makes me feel like I am the only person on the planet with brown, nasty teeth. I have thought of extracting all my teeth and getting complete dentures. Then again, when I watched reality shows about how people go through surgery to fix every imperfect parts of their body, it is reassuring to know that not everyone is happy with what they were born with.
I am now content with my teeth as long as they don’t bother me and they do their job: allow me to enjoy delicious food. I don’t need to have perfect teeth to live my life. Appearance remains external. I am now too fucking old to worry about that shit.