That afternoon, my dad got a call. A dental emergency. A miracle tooth! I told you already, he was the best dentist in Isfahan. Well it just so happened that a minister of immigration, a mullah, a boss man in the government, had taken an eager bite of a peach and broken his left front tooth on the stone. The sticky juice was still in his beard as my dad reached in to fix it. It was like the story of the mouse pulling a thorn from the paw of the lion. Except my dad is the lion and the mullah is a toad. But we lived in the land of the toads and needed toad papers. That’s how we got them. If it
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