"Daddy?"

 

"Yes, Maggie?"

 

"Will I need to wear brainces?"

 

"Do you mean braces or brainces?"

 

"Brainces, Daddy," Maggie enunciated. "For the brain."

 

"Well, maybe. It's pretty common - I think most kids get them at some point. We'll see the orthosophist and check."

 

"The ostrich?" said Maggie, part mocking, part joking, and part confused.

 

"The or-tho-so-phist," said her father, lingering on each syllable. "You remember we went to see the orthodontist the other day?" he continued.

 

"Uh huh."

 

"Well, an orthosophist is kind of the same thing, but for the brain instead of the teeth. An orthodontist uses braces to make your teeth straight. And an orthosophist uses brainces to make your thoughts straight. You see, ortho means - "

 

"Daddy!" protested Maggie, cutting him off.

 

"O.K." her father said, abandoning the lecture.

 

"So will I need brainces or not?" she asked.

 

"Well, like I said, the orthosophist will figure that out. Maybe now, maybe later, maybe not at all. Kids' thoughts move around a lot, so sometimes you need to wait a while to see."

 

"Does it hurt when they put them in? Sophie said they stick a big needle in your head."

 

"Oh, they numb you up beforehand. It's a little pinchy, but not even as bad as getting a flu shot."

 

"How about once they're in? Are they uncomfortable?"

 

"Not really - you get used to them pretty quick. And you go to the orthosophist about once a month to check that everything's O.K."

 

"Sophie said you can't have lemons when you wear brainces."

 

"That's right. No lemons, nothing too sour. It messes them up, for some reason."

 

"No sour gummies?" asked Maggie. It was her favorite movie candy.

 

"No, but you can have plenty of sweet things."

 

"Daddy?"

 

"Yes, Maggie."

 

"I'm kind of scared."

 

"What about, baby girl?"

 

"What if my friends don't like me when I have brainces?"

 

"Well, Sophie wears brainces now, and you like her just the same, right?"

"Of course. We're besties!" said Maggie, singing the last word and striking a pose.

 

"Right. So your friends will still be your friends if you get them. And you know what?"

 

"What?"

 

"I used to wear brainces, when I met your mother."

 

"Mommy?" Maggie called out.

 

"Yes dear?" said her mother, coming in from the kitchen.

 

"Did Daddy really use to wear brainces?"

 

"He sure did."

 

"They didn't look silly?"

 

"Oh no, Maggie. I was happy he was doing something to make him better. He used to be kind of a funny-thinker, like your Auntie Rhoda."

 

"Mommy?"

 

"Yes, Maggie?"

 

"If I get brainces, can I have lots of lemonade the day before? And a big pack of sour gummies?"

 

"Yes, Maggie. But right now it's time for Daddy to put you to bed."

 

Three stories and a toothbrushing later, Maggie was sound asleep. Her father got out his phone, and looked at some of his old status updates, from when he was a teenager. They were almost painful to look at - the thinking all over the place, with emotions weirdly poking through. And yet they did have a certain charm to them - he was kind of fond of the goofy person he used to be, even if he had decided to change for the better.

 

Maggie's father put his phone away and started to brush his teeth. Brainces would be good for Maggie in the long run, he thought, but they were very expensive. Was it really that important to fit in with everyone else? Maybe they could save the money instead, or go for a trip somewhere nice?

 

He finished brushing and opened a small plastic blue container. He took out two thin silver discs the size of his little fingernail, and carefully affixed them to his forehead. There was a barely noticeable tingling as his rebrainers got to work, sending impulses into his neural pathways to hold back his out-of-place thought, and prevent a thousand more erroneous ones from popping up.