I spent sixth through twelfth grade wearing the gamut of orthodontic appliances to correct shark teeth, but was not diligent with retainers in college, and a lower canine tooth consequently liberated itself. It's not really noticeable to eyes, but my tongue can feel the misalignment.
When I consulted a dentist about my errant tooth during a teeth cleaning, she just shrugged and remarked, "Teeth will settle where they feel comfortable."
I'd be lying if I said that my errant tooth didn't bother me – sometimes mightily so – but whenever I consider fixing it, I conclude that I'm too old for that shit. "Oh well."
Enter my mother.
"Jon, if your teeth aren't straight, they'll fall out when you're older. You need to fix that tooth."
And so, I type this while wearing retainers I had molded earlier this week, saliva sliming my mouth and lisp in my speech.
Orthodontist: You need to wear them at all times for at least two months.
Two months from now is my 31st birthday.