When I was a kid, I got a love of slivers. A sliver is a tiny piece of
wood that imbeds in your skin. Back in those days, there wasn’t much
plastic around. Most everything was made out of wood. There were
wooden toys, wooden stairs, wood floors and wooden playground
structures. If you play on wood long enough you’re bound to get a
sliver. I got slivers in my hands, arms, legs and feet.
Whenever I got a sliver, I would cry out in pain – not too loud. Just
enough for the world to know that I suffered. Then I would try to pull
the sliver out on my own, usually breaking off the part sticking out of my
skin. Then I would run home to ask my Mom or Dad for help. I
remember my dad was the sliver puller.
