True story: When I was eight, I had a palate expander because I have the (apparently) dominant Benz trait of a narrow upper palate. It was nothing like the one Zoe had, or even the one Mark had a few years later. It was huge and cemented in and you had to turn the key every three days. I had this fear that whoever was turning the key would drop it down my throat, so I would only let my dad turn it and I made him wrap the string the key was on around his wrist. Even as a child I was weird. I remember the day one side of it came uncemented while I was brushing my teeth. It hurt because then the other side was digging into my gums. We beat the dentist to his office that day. He was just like, oh, I guess we are finished with this now. And that dentist now lives across from my grandma. Anyway, the thing is, I thought it was called a pallid expander, because it's not like anyone showed me any literature on it and I didn't know what the roof of my mouth was called. Also, people do not enunciate and I knew that pallid was a word. You couldn't Google stuff like that back then...