What do you imagine when you hear the word mousetrap? Could it be the mechanism that kills rodents? Maybe even the amusing board game that is ever so irritating to set up. When you consider this word, however, I doubt that the first thing you associate it with is teeth. As strange as it sounds, the only thing that comes to mind when the word mousetrap pops into my brain are my pearly whites. I went through the bulk of my life with no dental troubles, whatsoever, not even one cavity. My perfect dental record ended, however, in the eighth grade when it was discovered that I had an impacted bicuspid. This unfortunate finding now meant that I had to receive oral surgery and visit the dreaded orthodontist. I understood that the procedure and the sentence of two years in braces was part of the package, but I was unaware that the mousetrap would have a share in my treatment.

During the summer of 2011, I had the brackets and wires placed on my teeth. The process, to me, seemed incessant. Just as I thought it was concluding, my orthodontist pronounced that it was time for the mousetrap. I immediately shot up in my chair thinking that these insane people were about to slap my tongue back with a device that killed rodents. I was told not to fuss and that it would help bring my impacted tooth into place. After the doctor had finished, he asked me to glance into the mirror to assess my appearance. I quickly felt my stomach drop. When I observed my reflection, the only thing I noticed was a parabolic wire stemming from top to bottom on the left side of my mouth. It was hideous. It was the mousetrap.

The contraption was quite ghastly, and many unpleasant happenings occurred due to it. It stabbed me in the gums nonstop. My peers now noticed me not by my face or hair, but by the shiny wire sticking out of my mouth. For a time, I even struggled to speak clearly, lisping as my tongue could not move without stroking it in some way. I desired nothing more than for this wretched object to exit my mouth. Blessedly, 2013 arrived, appearing to me as the light at the end of the tunnel. On that glorious day in late July, my nemesis was gone forever.

With my eyes shut, I sauntered up to the mirror and smiled. Anxious to see my newest look, my eyes sprung open. This time, my smile remained as my choppers looked better than ever.

While I would consider my time with the mousetrap an extremely embarrassing period of my life, I now can do nothing other than thank it. If the wire obstruction was never positioned in my mouth, I would not have learned that good things come to those who wait. I waited patiently, even struggled, and the end result bypassed my wildest expectations.

Brain Gilmore is a senior at Lake Braddock and will be a freshman at James Madison University next year.