I walked out yesterday from my emergency visit to the dentist with a prescription (I could have kissed the guy), a wounded bank account (I *should* marry the guy) and a number of thoughts around teeth...
We are born with no teeth and die with a few (if any). In between, a bit of everything tainted with a mix of emotions.
The number of visits to the dentist is directly proportional to the growth in your vocabulary. The more you know, the less you like (sometimes referred to growing up - and it's not pretty). One learns the hard way that crowns are not exclusively reserved for royal family members; that there are more fillings than the ones you get to choose for your sandwich; or that wisdom is not carried only in your brain. Losing a tooth has a totally new significance when the tooth fairy isn't involved and having holes in your smile is considered creepy rather than cute.
An open door to a painful world of unpronounceable words (orthodontists, bruxism...) and utterly humiliating moments - even visits to the gynecologist aren't as embarrassing as having a person dedicated exclusively to moving a plastic tube around your mouth for 30 minutes to suck your saliva in. This is probably why we neglect our teeth until we are paralised by acute toothache impeding us from eating, sleeping, talking, thinking, living.
My final words to you: take care of your teeth.