So, the other day I was down in the shop and I must have stepped on something metal which embedded itself in my foot. I'm barefoot a lot. (Shut up, I don't like shoes.) I grew up in the desert, running around barefoot on the blacktop when it was one hundred degrees in the shade and the bottoms of my feet are like leather anyway, so when that happens I usually just rub my foot on my shin and walk it off. But every once in awhile, something gets stuck in there just to prove to me that my feet aren't made of metal. And then I need some help to get it out. Because I'm just not flexible enough anymore to perform minor surgery on the bottom of my foot.

So one this particular occasion, I asked The KingofHearts to fix it out for me. So he got the tweezers and a pen knife and a flashlight and operated. This is to truly love someone. Some people marry for love, some for money, but I postulate that the real reason people stay in a relationship is to have another person available to scratch that itch you can't reach on your back and to take slivers out of awkward places.

Once the procedure was complete, The Caterpillar had to inspect his work.


But she wasn't quite satisfied with his treatment, so she took over.


Apparently, I had slivers in many other places on my foot of which I was not aware. She was happy to oblige.


This kind of work requires the utmost in concentration, as you can see.


And then, as any good CDC employee knows, you have to check family members for cross-exposure.


Because you never know when one of those slivers might jump from Mommia's foot to Daddia's.


But she told Daddy he was unharmed.


And then moved on to check The Dormouse, who was a bit trepidatious about the whole thing.


Gee, I wonder where she gets her interest in doctoring?