For his dramatic performance in "I Have a Splinter in My Hand"!
Evan was outside yesterday afternoon while I was cooking dinner, playing tennis. And by playing tennis, I mean he was hitting every ball he could find over the fence and then complaining because I would not let him go get them. At some point, he started hitting the balls onto the deck, so he'd come up the stairs to get them and then head back down, sliding his hand along the wooden railing, which is where the splinter enters the picture.
There are no tears or panic until I tell him I need tweezers to dig the half-inch piece of wood out of his hand.
"Not the tweezers, they won't work!"
"Maybe you should try pulling on the other side of the splinter"
(my personal favorite) "Do you think I'll still be able to hold the racket in my left hand?"
And after he held still and stopped talking long enough for me to get the splinter out, the pain and tears started. But only after I asked him to finish setting the table. And he was magically cured with an ice pack and the promise that he could still go swimming last night.