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A Quarterly Journal
Jeffrey Woodward, Founder & General Editor
Volume 6, Number 4, December 2012

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Collin Barber
Memphis, Tennessee, U.S.A.


John 3:16

I get home so late from work, my wife barely wakes up enough to tell me that our son has lost another tooth.

“Grab a dollar out of one of those plastic eggs on the dresser.”

She’s a good Tooth Fairy, aware that I don't ever have any cash. Fortunately, she remembered the Easter Egg hunt this past weekend.

“Yeah, good idea.”

No harm in borrowing a dollar as long as I replace it. I fold it up, place it neatly under his pillow, collect the specimen in a Ziploc bag, and go to sleep.

In the morning, he flashes his holey smile as he unfolds the bill.

“It says John three-hundred and sixteen, just like my other dollar, Daddy!”

Shit.

This is probably an opportune time to tell him the truth, but I laugh and order him to get ready for school instead.

Later that morning, a cashier at the gas station watches as I carefully forge my “John 3:16” on another dollar bill.

“You a preacher or something?”

“Nah, just a dad.”

in this wilderness
I let my sons believe
the stones
they discover
are dinosaur teeth

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