A brave man

About a month ago (I know ... I've been slack!), I was brushing Biscuit's teeth on a weekend morning, and I noticed a black mark on his hand.

It was a small straight line, and I brushed over it with my hand to try to wipe it off. But it didn't come off. I took a closer look and realized that he had a long splinter in the fleshy part of his hand under his pinkie finger.

Ugh.

I used to be a phlebotomist, so I know my way around a needle. But I've never had to point one at my precious baby boy.

Until that day.

I showed Biscuit what it was and told him that I had to take it out.

"We can't just leave it in there, Mom?" Biscuit asked.

"No, baby," I told him. "We have to take it out or it could get infected. Then we'd have to go to the doctor to get it out."

"Will it hurt?" Biscuit asked.

"Yes," I told him. I didn't have the heart to lie about it because having had 58,000 splinters removed during my lifetime, I honestly don't recall a single one that didn't cause me pain.

"I'll try to be brave, Mom," Biscuit told me.

"I know you will," I said.

We have the best light in our newly remodeled (thank you very much) bathroom, so I grabbed a small pillow, laid it on the counter and told Biscuit to lie down on the counter with his head on the pillow. I turned my back toward his head so he couldn't see what I was doing, and I started to work on his hand.

I had already sanitized the needle and tweezers, and I was just dreading, dreading, dreading having to hurt him.

I picked and picked and picked at his hand until I could finally grab the splinter with the tweezers and gently wiggle it out. Luckily, it came out in one whole piece.

Other than raising his knee on one particularly deep stick, Biscuit had remained perfectly still. I couldn't believe it. He was more of a man than many men I've put needles in!

I showed the splinter to Biscuit, and he said, "Whoa! That was in my hand?"

"Yep," I told him. "I dug that right out of your hand. Did it hurt?"

"YES!" Biscuit said. "It hurt a lot, but you told me to be still, and it would be over quick. And Mom, you were right. I held still, and you hurt me, and I was brave, and now that splinter is out. You did a good job, Mom."

Sometimes I wish scientists could perfect the cloning process!