::Retainer Barrett::

“Be ashamed to die until you have won some victory for humanity.”

Horace Mann, 1859.

I have this bad habit of not wearing my retainer because I think of it as a punishment, and so I say to myself most nights (when I actually think about my retainer), "No... I had a bad enough day. I don't need to make it worse by wearing my retainer and hurting my teeth." And on good days: "I don't wanna punish myself by wearing my retainer. I'm happy now, and I don't wanna ruin that by putting my dumb retainer in.”

So, I finally put it in after two or three months of not wearing it—and… Ouch. Ouch…. OW! Geez. I hope I can eat tomorrow. But I know I can sleep. I can always sleep because I’m almost always tired.

I woke up in the middle of the night after I’d finally put my retainer in, and felt something poke my hand. What the…? I feel the object and discover it’s my top retainer. I’m not surprised. I can take my top retainer out with my tongue because it’s never been that tight. What does surprise me is that I also managed to tongue out my bottom retainer, which I also found on the bed. Cool. I must have been pretty determined in my sleep to get it out. I don’t know if my tongue has enough strength to do that on its own, so I kindof wonder if I took it out by hand… in my sleep.

I’ve also had my top retainer stuck in my hair sometimes. I’m really sorry for whoever I marry, if I ever marry—

“Ugh, Bekah! You got your retainer in my hair again! Will you please stop spitting it out!?”

“Sorry! I can’t help it!”