I’m just back from the orthodontist with my daughter. She has just been discharged for the final time. Her teeth are, to all intents and purposes, perfect.
So, that’s one more thing she doesn’t need me for.
It’s easy to be racked by self-pity as these little milestones roll by, and she gains another measure of independence from the rapidly deteriorating creature who drives her from place to place. I suppose society demands that I replace my ability to be of use to her with a kind of permanent place on the substitute’s bench, ready to spring into action down the line when she runs out of cash, or splits up with a boyfriend, or has an essay crisis.
All those things are to come. But for tonight I’m just watching her smile at me and thinking how nice her teeth are. That’ll do for now.