All I Want for Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth

It happened in the ga-ga pit.

The six-year-old first-grader was playing ga-ga ball with his classmates at his elementary school in Gillett, Wisconsin, about 25 miles north of Green Bay. Ga-ga ball is a little like dodgeball, only kids have to aim at the waist or lower (Where were these academics when I needed them? I still remember Phil Agby in middle school throwing a rubber ball at classmates’ heads at approximately 425 miles an hour.).

During the game, the boy ran his tongue over the squish-tooth that had dangled perilously by a strand from his youngling gums. Now, though, all he felt was a gap and the trickle of blood that ran from the newly-extracted chomper. The game was halted, and kids began to scour the ga-ga pit for the tooth. Then parents joined in. Teachers, too. Nothing. Maybe he swallowed it. Maybe it joined the innumerable pebbles in the pit. Regardless, it may as well have dropped into the Atlantic, because there was no recovering the missing enamel. Image result for first grader missing front tooth

The boy was more than a little distraught. Like any good capitalist, he knew that tooth was worth cold hard cash under his pillow. No tooth, no money. And good luck catching the fairy to explain your predicament in person; that enchanted benefactor was as slippery as Santa.

Enter Curt Angeli, the principal at Gillett Elementary. Image result for Curt Angeli, the principal at Gillett ElementaryAfter seeing the boy in tears, he called the child’s parents and suggested an unorthodox psychological approach to lift the boy’s spirits. They delightedly approved. A few hours later, the boy came home with an official note from the principal. On school letterhead, no less. This is what is read:

“Dear Tooth Fairy, Today (the student) lost a tooth while playing outside at recess. Unfortunately, it was lost in our ga-ga pit, and despite the valiant efforts of an intrepid search team, we were unable to recover the tooth.

“As a trained principal and hobby dentist, I can verify that there definitely is a gap in (his) teeth that was not there this morning when he came in.

“Please accept this letter as official verification of a lost tooth and provide the standard monetary exchange rate you normally use for a real tooth.

“If you have any questions, please feel free to contact me at the address above.

Sincerely,

Curt Angeli, Principal, Gillett Elementary School

The boy put the note under his pillow that night and found a dollar bill in its place the next morning. A couple Facebook posts later, and Curt Angeli became Curt Angelic.

And who couldn’t use a dose of that?