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DENTISTS? I love 'em, to tell you the tooth

ISN'T it funny how long you can go without knowing something - and how enlightening it is when you finally find out?

I have harboured a fang of Dracula proportions on the left side of my smile ever since my milk teeth fell out and my canines were formed. And my canines really did form, particularly in the case of the left one.

As far as I've always been concerned, all photos of me highlight this glaring imperfection, leading me to sometimes adopt an inane, closed-mouth grin when the flash goes off.

However, a recent trip to the dentist, and a timid, mumbled question to the man himself, and I found myself with a solution I could only have dreamed of.

Not only was it possible to flatten out my sabre tooth, it was simple, painless and could be done there and then!

I was ecstatic, especially when the procedure didn't actually hurt - something you can never trust doctors or dentists about entirely.

I was giddy with excitement when he handed me a mirror - the point was gone! I no longer looked like I could hook pieces of food straight from my plate, with no need for cutlery.

I could tell my saviour in the rolling chair was rather bemused by my ridiculous happiness about something so utterly trivial - I'm well aware that most people won't even notice my "new smile"; it's not as if a bit of filing has managed to transform my pegs into a gleaming white array of perfection, Hollywood style.

Frankly, though, he's lucky I didn't launch towards him for a hug, I was that chuffed. It doesn't matter how small a thing it is to everyone else. The fact is, after so many years harbouring such intense dislike for that particular area of my visage, it had ballooned into one of those problems you concentrate far too much on, and had seemed insurmountable.

My dentist had literally answered my prayers, and for that I will be eternally grateful!

7:00pm Tuesday 13th May 2008

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