Wednesday, 18 February 2015


Well, at the grand old age of 24 it looks like I'm finally going to get braces. Nope, not to hold my trousers up, but to straighten my teeth out.

Better late than never, right?

Today marks the beginning of the end of my quest to rid myself of 18th century like nashers and to sport a Julia Roberts smile. Something I didn't think possible, but something I've fought for for longer than I care to remember.

But remember I shall, as I promise to tell the story of a goofy young boy who very much should have had braces at the age of 11, like everyone else, but for reasons still a little foggy, didn't, and who is now, in adulthood, having to share an Orthodontic waiting room with children watching cBeebies to get his face fixed.

It's been an emotional ride my dear readers, but that's nothing compared to what's to come, I'm sure.

For now, I'm going to try not to pick the elastic bands that have been stuck between my back teeth and instead eat as much crusty bread as I can find before I'm no longer able to!