An irregular or projecting tooth.
I am blessed with fabulous teeth. I discovered some time ago that this is not polite thing to brag about. Many people seem to require a trip to the dentist several times a month, and I once irritated to the breaking point one such person when I told him I had gone 10 years between dentist visits. 10 years!
He, like a lot of people, routinely found himself with his mouth pried open, drills and pointy metal things pursuing another dental disaster in his head.
I, on the other hand, not only went 10 years between dentist visits but after that visit I went 7 or 8 years before getting another checkup. Now that I am getting older (and since I have the insurance to cover checkups) I feel I should make the effort to maintain myself more regularly, so I do plan on annual checkups from now on.
After those 7 or 8 years between dentist visits I went again out of concern for some pain in my left jaw. It felt like a cut, not a problem with the teeth, but it seemed reason enough to get it looked at. Having not been to a dentist for so along I was a little nervous. Like a catholic going to confession for the first time in more years than he could recall I admitted to the dentist that it had been years since my last checkup. He smirked a bit, suggesting (humorously) that I was lucky, and that some folks just don’t have to see a dentist very often.
He put on his surgical mask, picked up his dental tools and opened my mouth, promptly saying "Nnnniiiiiiiiice!" It was really very funny, his reaction to my mouth was like that of someone seeing a beautifully polished Rolls Royce. I laughed, dangerously, what with his sharp objects in my mouth and the rather prone position I was in. I laughed enough to shake the small table on which the dentist’s gear sat. Then I stopped, my nerves relaxed.
A similar incident happened that time when I went to a dentist for the first time in 10 years. The dentist gazed upon the glories of my jaw, holding my mouth open for a moment and waving his assistants in to see it. "Look at this!" he gushed. His assistants stopped what they were doing to behold the perfection, listening to that dentist describe how the spacing of things was so perfect that it was like a self-cleaning mechanism. The assistants seemed genuinely impressed, though not as awe-struck as the dentist himself.
My wisdom teeth, which finally became noticeable in my 30s, have recently made themselves obvious again at the back of my jaw. They point outward and occasionally dig into the sides of my mouth back there. I guess we can call them snaggleteeth, though the use of that words seems to lean toward visibly protruding teeth.
