The Tooth Collector

From the time I was little my dad "taught" me to hold onto things.  He's been an avid collector of stamps and coins from the time he was little.  The older he got, the more elaborate his collection of things has become.  He's held on to more things than I can even begin to name--things that to most would seem completely ridiculous.  From steins to fishing poles, to hunting and camping gear to guns.  His collection makes him just shy of being a hoarder.  The garage, the shed, and the spare bedrooms are filled with his "crap" as my mother so lovingly calls it.  I, too, have inherited this collecting gene.  I have saved a ton of things throughout my life.  From all of my old journals from middle school to letters I received.  I've saved poems and feathers (remember the ones we stuck in our hair in the 80s--complete with the reefer clip...) and books.  There are a million pictures, newspapers with headlines from the war, and old high school memories.  And then there is my tooth collection.  Yes, you heard that right.  I've saved every tooth that ever popped out of my mouth.  And today I couldn't be more thrilled to discover a co-worker of mine also has a collection of her teeth!  Never in my 41 years has this happened.  My family has made me seem like the odd duck for having my tooth collection--and now, for the first time, there is another odd one that also collects their teeth.  So for that, thank you, Brooke!