You have been very patient.
You’ve had to suffer my musings on the pros and cons of abdominoplasty, my reflections on bikinis, my efforts to get fit and lose weight and to generally turn into Melina Kanakaredes… and STILL I find another quibble with my physical being…
It’s not that I walk like Rihanna. I have teeth like Madonna.
Madonna’s teeth have got a bit of symmetry about them. Mine have a bit of asymmetry.
But they do have a gap.
I don’t think I can quite wedge a pound coin in it. I’m too scared to try in case it gets stuck there.
Not that I didn’t go though years of orthodontic treatment as a teenager: four teeth removed, train tracks and retainers – and for what? Eh… no idea. I don’t think it worked. If this is what they were aiming for, I think they overshot a bit.
“Man looks at the outward appearance; God looks at the heart” 1 Samuel 16 vs 7.
I asked my son if I should get my teeth fixed. He said I definitely should. But then he said:
“It’s the gap in your teeth that makes me know you’re my mum.”
So, I’m not saying I’m not maybe going to have some jiggery pokery in the cosmetic dentistry department at some stage, but maybe for now my tooth quirks will remain. I’d hate to derail my identity with traintracks.
And anyway, I’m in good company. Maybe I should simply aim for Jorja Fox instead of Melina Kanakaredes…