Splinters and DRAMA...

Tonight, the Pea zoomed through the front door, traveling at the speed of light. "Moooooooooommmm! I need you, I NEED you!" My heart skipped a beat, worrying that someone was hurt. It was getting close to dark outside, and a handful of kids from the neighborhood were playing in the yard. "I wasn't doing anything wrong!" (Oy.) "Look! The biggest splinter in the world!" The Pea shoved her palm in my direction. Splinter? Is THAT all?! I thought to myself. Come to Mama!
Needles don't frighten me, in fact, I have quite an odd fascination with splinter removal. Surprisingly enough, I would have made an amazing surgeon. Except for the whole "blood coming out of the body" thing that leaves me in a weepy, well...unconscious...state on the gurney. (note: see previous blog regarding poor phlebotomist matched up with me for lab work) It's true! My freshman year of high school, my biology teacher watched me dissect seven specific (read into this: teeny tiny) parts of a cricket. He swore I was a surgeon in the making. (Of course, I imagine his mind quickly changed the following week when I fainted during the opening credits of a childbirth documentary...) Anyhoooooo...
Splinter removal is the perfect opportunity to use my non-blood-surgical skills. I assembled my tools like a professional. Cotton balls, peroxide, needle. Primarily for dramatic effect, I sterilized the needle by holding it over a flame. The Pea wasn't so sure this whole process was a good idea. However, her opinion changed significantly once I allowed her to hop up on the vanity counter top in preparation for the surgery.
From the howling, gasping, sighing, and wiggling...you would have thought I was beating the poor child. (And all that was BEFORE I even used the needle...while I was sterilizing stuff...geez.) When it was time to get down to business, I was the Master. Gentle, precise, compassionate. The perfect combination of bedside manner with surgical skill. Quick and accurate. I removed the ginormous splinter and held it for the Pea to examine. Success. I began to pat myself on the back, wipe the sweat from my brow, prepare a few modest words of self-congratulation.
By the time I turned around, the Pea had hopped off the vanity and fled back out the door to play in the last moments before darkness fell.
And all was right with the world....