The Tooth:

I was robbed before I turned six.  And became a thief because of it.

You see, I had a loose tooth.  My first loose tooth.  I listened avidly to the tales of the Tooth Fairy visit, trading money for my tooth.  And yes, I believed.

I dreamed of the riches I could buy with that dime!  Two chocolate bars, yards of shoestring licorice, a bag of jawbreakers or bubblegum.  Enough candy to make myself sick. 

I wriggled that tooth every day, trying to get it out before Saturday.  Shopping day. 

Thursday it snowed.  Heavy, snowman building, fort excavating, snowball snow. 

Ger threw a snowball at me after school.  Right in the mouth! 

My tooth disappeared.  Not even a line of blood to show me where it had dropped.

I wailed my loss at the dinner table.  But Dad said no tooth, no trade. 

I figured Ger owed me his next loose tooth.  After all, if he hadn't thrown that snowball, I'd've been ten cents richer. 

I planned my revenge; waited for weeks. 

On his next anticipated Tooth Fairy visit, I snuck into his room, stealing that tooth.  I tucked it under my pillow anticipating the Tooth Fairy's visit and the dime.

Ger showed off his dime at breakfast.

But he didn't have his tooth, I complained, opening the 'tooth hanky' to show off his stolen tooth.  The fairy didn't trade for it.

My spanking stung for hours.

I still believe he owes me for my tooth.