Sin Slivers

"Ouch!" cried Wren as she climbed into the tree house her dad was building. Dad stopped hammering and raised his brow. "I hurt my finger," Wren said.

"Let me take a look," said Dad. He put his hammer down and studied her finger. "You've got a sliver, but don't worry, I'm an expert sliver remover! Just as soon as I'm finished here, I'll take it out."

Wren squirmed. "It's okay. It's not that big. I'll just leave it."

"Not a good idea," said Dad, digging through his tool box. He frowned. "That's strange. I wrote down some measurements for the tree house, and I thought I left the paper with my tools, but it's not here. Well, I can work without it for now."

"Paper?" Wren asked, suddenly feeling guilty. And as the afternoon wore on, she felt more and more guilty. She knew what had happened to that paper.

"Dad, this sliver really hurts," Wren said that evening. "I think I need help from an expert sliver remover after all."

"Oh, that's right--I forgot about your sliver!" Dad said, g