Splinter

I’m not a cook; my housework stinks.
My writing looks like scrawl;
But if you get a splinter,
I’m the one that you should call.

I have a knack for digging out
Those slivers ‘neath the skin.
With sewing needle sterilized,
I’m ready to begin.

Today the splinter wedged into
The side of my right thumb.
Since I’m a righty, this one was
As tricky as they come.

Yet perseverance ruled the day;
Thought I’d begun to doubt,
A few maneuvers and at last,
I yanked the darn thing out.

My talents aren’t many
(Well, beyond the rhyming scene)
But if I deserve a title,
It would be the Splinter Queen.