the Angie’s List Blue House Blog

Ever since I was hit by a car while delivering newspapers when I was 10 years old, I’ve been very mindful of my teeth. The car struck the back wheel of my Daisy Dirtbike, which launched me into the air. I ended up landing on my left knee and chin, breaking two of my newly formed front teeth. Countless dentist visits later, I had shiny new porcelain chompers (that I’ve broken out a few more times since, but those are stories for another time … )

Sitting through root canals and dental dams and hours in an uncomfortable chair while a masked man with a flashlight on his head poked at my gums made quite an impression on the 10- to 12-year-old me. That impression: Take care of your teeth to avoid going through anything resembling this experience again!

So I’m a diligent tooth-brusher, and I floss frequently. I get my six-month dental checkups like clockwork. I won’t chew on straws or pens and I don’t even think about resorting to use my teeth to open pesky packaging like some people do.

However, none of my religious dental hygiene was a match for an obsession I’ve developed in the last six or seven months — Altoids. Last week at my most recent check-up, my dentist told me that I, yes I, have a cavity. A cavity?!?! Me???

I point my finger squarely in blame to the mounting pile of Altoids cans at my desk. They create a tower reaching about a third of the way to the ceiling (my goal was to go all the way up). Construction of this mindless project has ceased.

As I’m sure you’ve figured out by now, I fight a daily battle with this thing called “moderation.” It only stands to reason that my newish obsession with those delicious jolts of peppermint would — and did — stymie my long-standing obsession with keeping my teeth decay-free.

Now I’m on sugar-free gum and fruit (respectively), as I can’t be trusted with Altoids. I’ll remind myself of that when I get my cavity filled.