Billy Hoffman’s dad had a really cool job. Billy was a classmate when I was in third grade and his dad worked at Adam’s, a company that made these cheesy crispy things. One day Billy brought free samples of Adam’s Korn Kurls to school, and everybody got their own personal bag.

I wanted everyone to know that my dad had a really cool job too. He owned a bowling alley and a fancy restaurant called The Corral. At The Corral, they had these fancy toothpicks that tasted minty. Finny had eaten at The Corral with us one time and he couldn’t get over the fact that they actually had minty toothpicks. He had brought home a couple of extra ones to impress his brothers. So I thought it would be a great idea to bring a big box of minty toothpicks to school. The next day at school, I even dropped a few hints among my classmates that I’d be bringing them something special from my dad’s super-fancy restaurant.

There was just one problem. The Corral had discontinued its minty toothpicks, as I discovered the next day. All they had now was plain old boring toothpicks.

No problem, I thought. If there’s one thing Moop had taught me, it was that you could make anything in the garage. So I went home, found a pail in the garage, and filled it full of warm water. Then I took a fresh tube of toothpaste of out the bathroom. I squeezed out a good dollop into the pail. Then I stirred it really good with a wooden spoon. And I dumped in a whole box of 100 toothpicks and stirred them around too.

I let the toothpicks soak for about an hour and placed them on a cookie tray. I put them in the oven at 300 degrees for about half an hour. When I took them out they were all nice and dry. I loaded them back into the toothpick box, but then I removed the outer label of the box because it just said “toothpicks,” not “minty toothpicks.” In very neat handwriting, I wrote “100 Minty Toothpicks” on the box. And the next day I took it to school.

The kids were extremely impressed when I told them what was in the box. Everybody wanted to try them, so I passed them around.

“These taste like toothpaste,” said Brad Austin.

“I think it’s Colgate,” said Julie Rummage.

“No, it’s definitely Crest,” said Sue Mills.

Julie was right, but I wasn’t about to admit it. “They don’t taste like toothpaste to me,” I said. “I think they’re made in France from a special plant they call “crème de menthe.” I’d seen that Frenchie-sounding word on a bottle my parents had in the liquor cabinet.

“Wow, cool,” said Linda Hazelton, one of the cutest girls in my class. “I think they’re amazing.” She fluttered her eyelashes at me. After that I didn’t care what anyone said about them tasting like toothpaste.