Retainer Memories
By John Addyman | john.addyman@yahoo.com
Did you ever think about the kind of people who own certain cars? I see an older guy with whitish hair who has a brightly colored jacket and all kinds of decals and badges on it — I immediately think “Corvette.” If he’s a bit younger, with less white hair but the same amount of badges and decals, I think “Mustang.”
If he’s middle-aged, tired-looking, shopping with kids — I think “Toyota SUV.”
Work jacket and boots — truck or Jeep.
The process works in reverse, too. If I see a Porsche in the parking lot, I immediately think “dentist or periodontist.” Tesla? Has to be a cardiologist. Regular MD — a Lexus. Real estate broker — Lexus SUV.
And so on.
But that’s just me.
I love periodontists. All my kids have nice smiles. Same with my grandkids. Their periodontists earned every Porsche.
You might not know that the word periodontist comes from the Greek words “ortho” and “dontist” which mean, “Open your wallet, Dad.”
Many years ago, our oldest daughter came home and told her mother and me what she wanted to be when she was all grown up. We were waiting for her to say that she wanted to be a nurse or a teacher or a meteorologist.
Nope.
“I want to be an orthodontist,” she said.
And I couldn’t wait to get to the church to say my thank-yous. We wouldn’t have any trouble marrying this one off.
When I was 10 years old — the age of my daughter — the only kids who wore braces and dental appliances were geeks or rich kids. They were the only kids who knew what floss was. Today your kids better have braces or they have a right under the 14th amendment to file for violation of their civil rights.
After some initial work was done by the good doctor, my daughter came home with what was known in the orthodontic business as a “retainer” in her mouth. We all know what they are today, but back then, this was new turf for Mr. and Mrs. Addyman. My daughter referred to it often as “my damn retainer.”
“What does it do?” I asked.
“It hurts, that’s what it does,” she said.
Perhaps my wife knew.
I asked her, “Honey, what does the retainer do? If it’s a ‘retainer’ it must be retaining something. Is it keeping her teeth in her mouth?”
My wife shrugged.
“Perhaps it’s like a shield,” I suggested. “Maybe this is like the physical part of the treatment contract we have with the orthodontist to fix our daughter’s teeth. The orthodontist puts this thing in her mouth to show everyone we’ve got him on ‘retainer’ to make her a beautiful smile. And maybe it even has his name on it, like a ‘signature retainer,’ like a Calvin Klein.”
My wife shrugged.
I think retainers are ugly little things. They look like the top half of a boiled crab and when our daughter would leave it on the sink in the morning so it stared at you when you brushed your teeth. Oh yuck!
As a former school board member, I can tell you with some authority that the nice school cafeteria folks see a lot of retainers because kids, especially in middle school, take their retainers out to eat lunch, putting them on the lunch tray. Kids then get to talking and gossiping and next thing you know, they’re hurrying to recess or next classes and the tray gets dumped, along with the milk carton and paper plates and plastic utensils…and retainer.
In those days, we lived in fear of the phone call.
This one:
“Mom?”
“Yes?”
“This is your daughter calling from school. I have a small problem.”
“How small?”
“About the size of my retainer.”
“You mean you have a small $750 problem?”
“Right. That’s my dowry, right?”
“It was.”
“Well. I left my retainer on my lunch tray and I dumped my lunch tray and the retainer was on it and now the retainer is in the dumpster here behind the school.”
“Oh. Well, daughter, you’d better go get it out of the dumpster.”
“Out of the dumpster?”
“That’s where it is, right?”
“Right…Now?”
“There will never be a better time.”
“But I’ve got my acid-washed jeans and my new running shoes on.”
“Wear some boots.”
“Mom, I don’t think you understand how difficult this is going to be.”
“How difficult will it be, daughter?”
“We had spaghetti for lunch.”