This was the day that I may have lost Emma as a future woodworker. The day started with a normal amount of hope that Emma would one day want to start woodworking with me. The day ended very differently…

Juan had recently gotten a bunch of firewood from a friend that he then dumped in the garage. The day came when we decided to make Smores with the kids and I asked for their help in lugging the pieces from the garage to the back of the house where the bonfire would be. Things were going smoothly until there was a splinter. Emma immediately dropped the piece of wood and began screaming. Juan and I quickly looked her hand over and realized it was a small splinter. A quick attempt at dislodging it with our fingernails was futile so we took her inside for better extraction tools.

Emma continued with tears, and we attempted to calm her down telling her stories of our own splinters. This didn’t seem to help in the slightest. Unfortunately, the splinter had been pushed in deep and the tip was no longer above the surface of the skin making an easy grab with the tweezers impossible. This is when things got very interesting/cute. Emma proceeded with a slew of comments that Juan and I struggled to stop giggling at.

“I guess I will just have to die with this thing in my hand!”

“I hate wood. I will never touch it again!”

“Why did this have to happen to me?!”

“I don’t care if you get splinters all the time- this is my first!”

“Just leave it in there. It’ll be ok, right?”

The afternoon ended with a little blood and the tiniest splinter you’ve ever seen being promptly lost because it was so tiny it fell off the tweezers. We could all have a few good laughs after it was all said and done but I can tell it will be a while before Emma is ready to handle wood again- at least without gloves.