This is supposed to be funny --

I was lazily watering the flowers in the backyard just now while talking on the phone to a Relative about another Relative's upcoming surgery. There's lots of drama in families, mine included. I tend toward the contrary, so when someone is freaking out, I'm calm. I'm calm. While I was calmly talking to The Relative, bloodcurdling screams came spilling outdoors, emanating from Oliver who claimed to have been stabbed by a pencil by Henry. Henry followed closely behind yelling that it was an accident. I turned off the water and held the phone at my ear with my shoulder and bent down to look at the stabbing -- a tiny, bleeding pinprick in Oliver's finger. It was a lead pencil! he screamed, Is it going to poison me? Henry looked worried. I couldn't hear The Relative anymore over the phone so I excused myself and pulled Oliver inside to check out the wound in the bathroom. For the next five or so minutes, I tried to remove the tiniest of gray splinters from the tiniest of wounds to the tune of the loudest of screaming and carrying on about evil brothers and homework due and on and on. I remained calm. In my mind I looked like the above fantastically attired woman, a photo that I've been dying to use in a post so here it is.