Married life is so romantic. So I managed to get a splinter in my left big toe last week. I don't know what it was or how I got it, because it's not like I was walking around barefoot in a woodpile or anything. I suspect it came from the kitchen floor, which really needs a good cleaning.

Anyhow, I only noticed the splinter when I started getting these odd pains in my toe. Every so often, if I was squishing that part of my toe just right when I walked, I'd wince. And the pain just said "splinter." I couldn't see the splinter when I looked at my toe, but somehow I knew that was what it was.

That night, I came home from work, took off my shoe and sock, and plopped my foot in Tim's lap.

"Do I have a splinter?"

He looked at my foot. "I don't see anything in there."

"Look more closely. I know there's a splinter."

He squeezed my toe. "Does that hurt?"

"No."

"How about that?"

"No."

"How about..."

"YEEEEOUCH! You've found it!"

"I don't know if I can find it again."

"So circle it with a pen, because you're going to have to take it out for me."

There are times when, even though I'm an adult who fully enjoys her independent and autonomous life, I miss my mommy. Last Thursday was one of those times. My mother could have removed that splinter in ten seconds flat with zero pain and no scarring. She is a Genius of Splinter Removal. My poor sweet Tim was so concerned that he was going to hurt me by poking me in the toe with a pin that he couldn't manage to get the splinter out. After a while, I was tempted to hop into my car and make the two-hour drive up to my parents' house so my mom could work her magic on whatever it was that had become stuck in my toe.

Tim poked around with the pin for about ten minutes and finally declared the splinter "too deep to be removed."

I went to work the next day and asked my co-workers (most of whom are mothers) what to do. I ended up going to the Convenient Care clinic and having a nurse remove the splinter. It took her about thirty seconds and it did not hurt a bit. I never got to see it, so I don't know what it was, but I'm glad it's not stuck in my toe any more.

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I went to a baby shower last weekend for one of Tim's cousin's wives. I'm never a fan of gatherings comprised solely of women, especially gatherings involving sitting at a small table surrounded by women I barely know while my mother-in-law tries to engage me in conversation. And oh, she tries, and oh, I feel bad because the harder she tries the more difficult I become. And I'm not consciously being difficult--it's just how I am. I'm prickly! I need to get used to people before I can be open and friendly and comfortable around them. And the truth is, I don't think I'll ever be comfortable around Tim's mom because I can't really be myself around Tim's mom. It's like being around really formal company where I can't let loose with the f-bomb, or use the word "ass," or make the occasional fart joke, or be openly affectionate with my husband. She's a very nice person, and I definitely credit her for raising a wonderful son who is sweet and kind and genuine and all that, but she's got to just give me some time.

Also, she should never, ever ask questions like "Did you date in high school?" because that is just creepy. Because now, no matter what, I'm gonna be that shameless hussy who dated in high school. I told Tim that I'm going to make sure this apartment is immaculate before they come up here for his graduation because I really don't want to be that shameless hussy who dated in high school AND who is a shitty housekeeper to boot. Never mind that I am both of those things; I just don't want my mother-in-law to be aware of that.  ¶ 5/04/2005 10:29:00 PM