I'm not a doctor...

...but I get to play one when one of the kids get hurt.

As we frolicked poolside at Uncle D's backyard oasis on Sunday, Little A got the Splinter from Hell in his foot. Aunt A and I saw the whole thing happen and I still cringe when I think about it. The carefree running and skipping, the sudden stopping with confused look of What the HELL just happened to my FOOT!!!?? look on his face, the realization that whatever it was, it was BAD, and the scared, limping run to his mommy.

Little A has a long history with picking up splinters so I was well-prepared with my splinter-removal kit but this one was different than most. It was really deep and had gone pretty much straight in. Alternating between holding him down and trying to extract the thing it was misery for everyone for a while until I went to Google some magical tip that would cause the piece of wood to move a little toward the surface. White glue or duct tape wouldn't work because we're talking DEEEEEP here. I read somewhere that a piece of onion held to the wound would cause it to ease it's way up a bit so we could at least grab it. So, I strapped on a slice of onion and we went home smelling like burgers. Still no go. So, we put on some Neosporin, slapped on a band-aid and socks and forgot about it for a couple of days.

Last night I decided I could no longer pretend it wasn't in there so Little A took a long soaking bath and reluctantly held his foot out for me to see. Lo and behold, the darn thing was sticking halfway out of his foot (a delayed reaction to the onion, perhaps??). It was a big bugger measuring in at 9 mm. BB and I had a wager....I said 1 cm, he claimed 8 mm, so we were both equally wrong. No back massage required.