This morning I am babysitting a sweet little baby for a friend of mine. I was picking her and her blanket up to lay her in bed and I got a splinter under my little finger on my right hand. It really hurt as I pulled it out. And it reminded me of something much funnier that happened several years ago in our other house.
JM was just a month or so old. Nathan and I were upstairs. The kids were asleep so it probably was after 9 pm. Nathan had been teasing me about something or other and I was chasing him with the intention of pinching his butt. He headed for the stairs and just as I caught up with him my left hand brushed against the top of the banister. All of a sudden there was searing pain in my left little finger. I started saying, "Ow ow ow!" I ran down the steps and knelt in front of the end table and held my hand under the light. My little finger nail was half normal looking and half brown. I realized that a large splinter was jammed all the way under my finger nail. There was no way I was going to start messing with.
I called my sister and told her what happened. After she finished howling in laughter she said for me to come over so she could look at it. I drove over and she decided there wasn't anything she could do for it, after more laughing of course. So I made her come with me to emergency room.
After much explaining, and a lot of disbelief on the part of the ER staff, they decided to numb my finger and lift up the nail and pull out the pieces.
For as gross as it sounds it really didn't hurt when they took it out. And you couldn't even tell by looking at my finger nail.