One Saturday morning a few weeks ago I was walking to the front door when suddenly my foot hurt really, really bad. Maybe I stepped on a thumb tack? I looked down and didn’t see anything. Pulling off my sock, there was a piece of wood sticking out of my foot. Hmm… looking down at the floor there was a pretty gnarly chunk of wood missing. Figuring that I just had caught a piece of it, I started to try to pull the splinter out when C came over and saw me bleeding everywhere. She was smart and grabbed the tweezers to pull it out. While I whimpered like a little girl (who, me?) she had to use two hands to pull that bad boy out. Here it is in all its glory.

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Apparently there isn’t much important in the bottom of your foot, so after a day of keeping it up I was able to walk around again. So life’s good now, besides the paralyzing fear that the floor will strike again and hit an artery next time.