Brace Face

"Brace Face"
"Metal Mouth"
"Railroad Tracks Teeth"
even "Dum Dum who can't chew gum gum"

Those are the actual results I got when I googled nicknames for kids with braces. Wow.

A lot of teens have braces and almost everyone goes through the awkward stage, the look-in-the-mirror-and-realize-that-you-had-a-big-piece-of-lettuce-from-lunch-stuck-in-the-wires-of-your-braces-when-you- were-talking-to-a-cute-guy stage, the I'm-not-going-to-refuse-popcorn-just-because-my-orthodontist-told-me-to stage.

And you know what? No one ever tells you when you have that piece of lettuce in your mouth. Nope. They just let you walk on out of the cafeteria and up to that boy, and they even let you have a whole conversation and strut down the hall with a huge smile, feeling all confident. And then, as you round the corner to the bathroom and rush to the mirror to make sure you looked okay when talking to him (not that it matters anymore...too late now), only now after you gape at the limp green vegetable do they say, "oh yeah I saw that." Well, why in the world didn't you tell me?

We all go through that as teens, but no one seems to want to help anyone else out. They just won't give a sista (or brotha) a hand. The sad truth is, there is and probably always will be those awkward food-in-the-braces moments and the "Brace Face" shouts. We just deal with it for a few years, and suddenly, high school hits and it seems everyone has perfectly straight pearly whites. Magic.


But I'm still waiting for that appointment to come. For now, I'm still just a "dum dum who can't chew gum gum" (although I sneak some every once in a while).

Counter Three

 First Time Driving 

(A.K.A. Day my mom lost all faith in me)

"Stop!" my mom yelled, "You're gonna hit it! You're gonna hit it! STOP!"

"Mom, I'm 10 feet away from that other car. Just chill out."

"No. Absolutely not. Get out of the car. Now."

And that was pretty much sums up all you need to know about my driving experience.

                6 Months Later

(Day of License Test. A.K.A. Day with mean old lady staring viciously at me from the passenger's seat, eyes darting to catch any and all mistakes)

"You need at least 80 hours of driving in the daylight---and 30 hours at night before you drive alone."

"Mom, are you kidding me? I passed the test, let me drive already!"

  One Week Later

"Can I drive?"

"No. Not today."

Well, one question for you, how does she expect me to do over 100 hours of driving, if she never lets me drive? 

Folks, meet my mother. She expects me to do the impossible. She "believes in me." Apparently not enough to let me take the wheel. Great. 

 Today, as I'm walking up to the DMV, the car keys feeling unnatural dangling from my hand, my mom turns to me, 

  

"Don't be nervous, honey."

Right, don't be nervous, because I'm going to fail anyway. 

 

She takes a seat on a sticky blue chair and waits for my number to be called, probably hoping there will be some sort of freak accident and it will be skipped over. 

 

No such luck. "Number 6005 at counter 3"

 

I'm sure that that as I finished my test and pulled in (very crookedly) to a parking space, that my mom was praying that I had failed miserably and would have to wait at least another year before attempting the test again. 

 

But, to my incredible surprise, I did pass.

Not that that changes anything, though. I still have 110 more hours of practice before I can actually drive without Mommy and Daddy next to me. 

It's a long road of driving ahead, so look out highway, here I come!

And for the record, I was nowhere near that car.