We had a banner day in the Hicks household today when my 15-year-old son got his braces off. This is how long he's had them: His 4 1/2-year-old sister has never seen him without them. The braces were put on about six months before she was born. It's been so long, in fact, that it's going to take some time to get used to seeing a bright white, straight smile.
My 7-year-old son is probably going to need braces in a few years. The jury is out on my daughter. And my dentist is pressing me to get some orthodontics, as well. My teeth are slightly crowded, but mostly it's because of the popping and locking issues in my jaw. If I decide to go that route, it will come after I get around to having my wisdom teeth removed. The problem is affording all this. Dental insurance doesn't cover what it used to.
In other news, I'm six episodes into the most recent season of Torchwood. It's uneven. Episodes five and six (in the overflow camps) struck me as mostly filler, and I don't know what to think about setting up a pharmaceutical company as the bad guy of a science fiction show.
And in reading, I'm about halfway through "The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest" and am unlikely to finish it by the time the book is due back to the library. One scene in particular really struck home. Erika Berger, the new editor in chief of Stockholm's daily newspaper, is arguing with the financial folks over whether to cut newsroom staff. She argues that if staffers are cut, the quality of the product will go down, the newspaper will lose advertisers, and the downward spiral continues. Stieg Larsson knows what he's talking about.