IF the eyes are the window to the soul … then what does that make the teeth?
In my case, they’re the grubby doormat on the way to the stomach, where frequent scruffy guests like coffee and red wine wipe their dirty feet.
My wife, god rest her soul (… soon), described my teeth as having the colour and texture of Weetabix (I must have caught her in one of her good moods). What a charmer.
How she knows what my teeth look like is a mystery. I mean, I rarely smile in her presence.
I suspect she discovered the state of my teeth while hunting out gold fillings in my mouth as I slept.
“Are they really that bad?” I asked. “I mean, I don’t really see them that often.”
My nose has been the most prominent reason for steering clear of mirrors. It seems my teeth can be added to the equation.
“It’s all right for you,” she said. “I’m the one who has to kiss you.” (Ah, yes, kissing the wife. 2003, wasn’t it? She’s got a good memory our Michelle.)
“Why don’t you get something done about it?”
This column has been the closest I’ve come to solving my tainted teeth problem. Many’s the time my wife has threatened to punch them out after reading it. But she was suggesting cosmetic teeth whitening.
What, me? What kind of man does she think I am?
Oliver’s Dental Studio, in Sunderland, had the answer. I’m clearly a bloke who’ll do owt for nowt.
The East Herrington dental experts asked if I’d like to road test their teeth whitening technology which is brightening the smiles of Sunderland.
You may recognise owner Michael Oliver, he’s often pictured beaming out of adverts in the Echo. I like a man who fronts his own company advertising.
Michael’s putting his money where his mouth is. He’s Sunderland’s answer to Victor Kiam, only with teeth, not electric shavers. And he’s still alive.
He also has the distinction of being the official dentist of Sunderland Football Club. I’d like to have checked out the quality of his work on the Black Cats players, but they haven’t been smiling much of late.
But then I’m a trusting soul and so signed up for the procedure.
It is heartening to report that Mr Oliver has the bedside manner of all good dentists. The chief one being that habit of asking you a question as he probes away in your wide-open mouth.
You find yourself answering yes with a strangulated “aaaauuurll” while trying to convey the affirmative with your eyes and an ever-so-slight nod of the head.
I think this is taught at dentist school to inject a little comic relief into proceedings. It’s good for staff morale. Gives the dental assistant a laugh.
Anyway, all you need to know is that I am approaching half way through the two-week treatment and already the results are impressive.
My teeth have gone from hearing aid brown to hot dog mustard yellow. But it’s still early days.
My wife, hasn’t spoken about the change. I suspect she fears having to kiss me in the not to distant future (she’ll have to catch me first).
But what are the pros and cons of boasting a mouth full of super shiny white teeth?
Yes, I will be able to apply for any American gameshow host vacancies, but I’ll also have to buy some new white shirts. The beauty of having grotty teeth, was that my grubby work shirts looked positively pristine next to them. With superwhite pearlies I’ll have to invest in new ones.
Let me know your tales, good or bad, of minor (or major) cosmetic procedures. The best will be used to embarrass the hell out of the victim – so send pictures if you can.