Holey Moley, that's a lot of splinters

Hank's latest favorite activity is digging holes in the backyard. Not that this is that interesting, but I was on the phone with my sister today and she heard me handing the shovel to Hank and asked what he was doing. When I nonchalantly said, "Oh, he likes to dig holes in the backyard" she started cracking up. And it is pretty funny - the kid can dig a pretty deep hole for as little as he is. I can just imagine the new owners of the house coming in next month and tripping over all the holes in the backyard, so do you think I should warn them about it? And how would I do this? Just leave a note on the envelope with the extra keys and garage door openers that says, oh, by the way, there's a zillion little holes in the backyard, watch your step, enjoy the house! And I'm also reminded of the signs I used to see as a kid growing up in DM that said "24 HOURS BEFORE YOU DIG," the utility company's campaign to get people to call before they start digging so they don't hit a sewer line or something. I don't think the holes are deep enough to strike a utility line or anything, but I'm thinking now that maybe I should call just to check. I could just see Hank taking out the neighbor's cable or something. Or even worse, our cable.

Oh, and the splinter drama. On Monday we were playing in our $10 kiddie pool on the deck (we can see all the neighbors' real swimming pools from there, so it gives us the illusion that we are swimming in 4 feet of water instead of 6 inches of water) and Hank was running around barefoot and jumping into the pool. Later that night Mike was clipping his nails and noticed (and I am not exaggerating here) probably 20 or so splinters on the bottoms of his feet. About 4 of them were pretty huge and needed to come out right away. That was fun, let me tell you. We put Georgie to bed and then I held Hank down while Mike extracted the big splinters. It took about an hour, and we all were sweaty and traumatized when it was over. Screaming, kicking, the whole nine yards. It was the hottest day of the summer so far so our windows were all open (nobody has a/c in Maine) so I was sure the police would be knocking down our door ready to haul us away for child abuse. Mike's crude surgical skills got the four big ones out. The other splinters were all pretty little, just little specks in his feet. We would have been there all night removing them, so the next day I called the pediatrican to ask what we should do. We brought him in and they said to wait for them to come out on their own since they are so small, but to monitor them and watch for infection and keep his feet "nice and clean" until they are all gone. Easier said than done, my friends!