Steve and I were out on the deck trying to assemble a cedar plantar I got him for Christmas, when I performed an ill-fated slide across the decking. Turns out my buttery-soft Lucky Brand jeans are not appropriate for manual labor, as a long, jagged piece of wood sliced through my jeans and into my butt. I got up -- very carefully -- and made my way gingerly into the cluttered basement. I realized MUCH to my dismay that the splinter was anchoring my jeans to my skin, and I pulled out the part that was sticking out of my jeans. I dropped my jeans and looked in the full-length mirror. Steve looked on as I attempted a splinterectomy. Of course, a piece broke off way under the skin.
Steve has offered to use a razor blade to dig out the offending splinter, but I'm hoping it works itself out on its own.
In the meantime, this is all quite uncomfortable.