The great white tooth
Has anyone ever stopped to think that the Tooth Fairy is the only childhood hero who doesn’t give gifts freely. Hers (unless the Rock now has us believing in boy tooth fairies) is one of exchange. She takes your teeth, one by one, and replaces them with a coin.
I actually think my teeth are worth more than a dollar, or the fifty cents I used to get. My sister would definitely agree as in the past four months, she’s had four wisdom teeth and a reluctant baby tooth removed. The Tooth Fairy has not appeared to make her smile (albeit a now metal and brace filled smile) but is letting her foot the few thousand dollar bill. Even if she had saved all the money previously ‘gifted’ by the tooth fairy, it would not even make a small dent in the price she has to pay for good teeth.
I got the good teeth in my family. Straight, relatively healthy and with room for all four wisdom teeth, which ever so ironically appeared at a rate of one per year during my university degree. Besides a small chip on one of my front teeth from a skateboarding incident 20 odd years ago (don’t tow ropes with knots in the end behind your skateboard) the only complaint I have is that they are not sparkling white like in a toothpaste commercial.
My forthcoming move to LA in one month has the vain diva in me worried that my smile isn’t as sparkling as all the other smiles in LA. With this major concern, I scoured the aisles of Priceline and found a new brand of toothpaste with the tagline “Originally formulated for film actors and models”. For me this said “With me, your teeth will be as white as a freshly painted Hollywood sign and will beckon in a come hither manner to Ryan Reynolds”. That baby, complete with free toothbrush and flosser toothpicks, led me to the checkout and winked at me with a blinking sparkle.
So here I am with one month to furiously brush my teeth into a snowstorm ready for their Hollywood debut.