The New Dentist (Part II)

“Mom, why do we have to get braces?!” I yell at her. I am not happy at all.

“You have to get braces. I don’t,” she answers, as if nothing was wrong. How does she do it?

I’ll look hideous. Headgear stinks. My friend Lipa had to wear it. She looked so bad. I can’t shave all of my big hair. Then, I’ll look like I time traveled.

Mom could have at least told me why I had to switch dentists, or not switch and have two. I should have known Mom’s little plan. I was super suspicious of her. Why didn’t I ask? Because, she knew I was suspicious? Now, I can’t help but feel really mad at not just Mom, but even myself. How could I let her get to me?

“Ninaloo!” I hear her call my name. It may be Ninaloo, but I go by Nina. I’ve told her that a million times.

“CALL ME NINA. NOT NINALOO! I’m not coming,” I say.

That’s when Mom sees how mad I really am! So, is she going to do anything? Of course not. She’s a mom. What’s she going to do, magically make my teeth perfect? Even if she did have those powers, she’d probably still let headgear do the work. Just because we’re rich does not mean we don’t need headgear.

Mom always says that I’m fortunate. Some kids don’t get headgear and have real problems with their jaws and may not be able to eat. Too bad. Mom’s also a dentist. Bleh. I hope when I’m an adult or go to an adult dentist, I don’t have to go to her. By then, I think I can pick my own dentist.

Don’t you readers think so? I mean, it’s just so unfair. Mom does not understand at all. It’s frustrating.


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