So I stood there looking in the mirror trying to muster up the courage to do it. Dad said it had to be done and there would be consequences if i hadn't done it by the time he came back. I remember feeling scared, crying, and feeling like the world would end if I couldn't get that first baby tooth out. Yes, a tooth. 

On one of the fine court appointed unsupervised visits with my drug addict father and my sister started normal enough, he showed up late, New truck, New clothes ,gold sun glasses. Standing in the doorway of my step dad and Mothers Wonderful home near the lake he looked like a giant. He was a big guy, in and out of prison. Luckily my mother got away early into his drug use and we got away semi unscathed. He would show up some weekends when he was supposed to or not..... I we weren't as important as the drugs and girls. Most of the time we ended up at his parents house, with my abusive grandmother running a tight ship. Or he would pawn us off with our cousins at his brothers house. Anyhow , we hope in the New truck and off to the new Apartment someone helped him get or whatever. Sometimes there was furniture, maybe a bed or a couch or nothing at all. It was always getting moved (his stuff) or on the way or all brand new stuff coming from somewhere. He took us to the hobby store to purchase some kites and other spring time fun stuff for us to do, not for me though, not this weekend!  

I guess i was playing with the tooth or something ,I don't remember how he found out it was close to coming out, It was my first one to get loose and i was a little aprehensive to yank it since i didnt quite know how this whole teeth falling out of my head thing was gonna go... Saturday morning comes and we eat cereal with brown sugar instead of white, which im sure had something to do with a rehab trick to not see white powder in the house since hes a "recovering addict" . He announces that everybody (my sister, he and his girlfriend) is going out to the field next to the apartments to fly the kites and so on, but i must remain in the bathroom until that tooth is pulled, and if it isn't well he's going to grab it and pull it out and give me a good whooping no matter what when they are finished and i won't get to partake in the fun. So for hours I stand in the bathroom pulling and twisting, prying and yanking while in fear of the inpending pain that will comense .

To make a long story short The tooth was pulled, it hurt and i got a spanking for being a baby. Thanks Dad.  This is by far one of the mildest stories I have  and probably the only one i will tell.  I am a good person now (37) years old and I have a wonderful Girlfriend and I love her and her Daughters and Family. My immediate family is Great, My Dad adopted us eventually and my bio dad went to prison for a good 15 years and overdosed just weeks after being released with out a single word to my sister or myself when i was 25 years old.

Blood means nothing. A Father is a man who gives love and advice and wisdom. My Adoptive father wasnt around much either always on the rode doing business to make sure we had everything he never did. Although i wish he wouldve been around more, He is a Great man and I'm glad we see each other alot now.  So just when you think you've been forgotten or pushed around to much or you see people who have it better than you, It may look like they do, but sometimes on the weekends they get abused and beaten over something as simple as baby teeth.