teeth...

i think i've got to tell lill. which makes me all sorts of sad.

not the weepy why me wailing sort of sad. more the why does the magic have to end sort of sad.

she found an envelope of uncle sugar's. inside was a rather...pointed...letter from me written a few years ago. or maybe it was from some other raving lunatic who wrote in lower-case and used an impressive amount of dot dot dots. what can i tell you? the man likes my writing...even when i'm...pointed.

also in that envelope were about twelve tiny teeth.

she came to me and stood smack in front of me. i found baby teeth. her little lip quivered and tears puddled and she started giggling at her own crushed heart.

where? i was clearly buying time.

dad's side table.

oh. well. those are his. {what?!}

those are his teeth? tears drying. hope blooming.

no. but they're his and i can't tell you why he has them. that's his story to tell you. {what?!}

does it have something to do with his job? her eyes widened as more hope bloomed.

yes, lillie. i whispered in a low official-sounding monotone. your dad punches little kids and knocks their teeth out. sometimes he comes straight home after roughing up a toddler and doesn't get a chance to drop off the teeth at his office. well done. you've cracked the case, encyclopedia brown.

she laughed and i laughed and she stopped asking questions. maybe because she wanted to enjoy one last christmas as a little kid.

not the kind uncle sugar apparently deals with in his job, but just a regular little kid. who still believes in magic.

i'll probably take her to lunch this week. just us. wish me luck.

on a side note? why on earth would she connect twelve baby teeth in an envelope that her dad keeps next to his bed with. his. job. {sigh.} this is going to be one long lunch.

oona patterson? genius. for sure. see more of her art on her blog.