It's very small, didn't cost a penny, yet has made my life a thousand per cent better.

A couple of months ago, I was changing one of those energy-saving light bulbs in the kitchen when I dropped it on the floor and it shattered into a thousand, billion pieces.

I carefully swept up the remnants and hoovered up the rest. There wasn't anything to be seen.

I even mopped up the area to make sure it was clear of detritus. I have never been able to work out why, or how, several hours later while making a late night coffee in my bare feet I stood on a huge razor-sharp shard of glass from the bulb, which embedded itself in my heel.

Squeezing the offending splinter simply pushed it further inside.

Trying to pull it out with a pair of tweezers resulted in neatly clipping off the top and the skin contracted and sealed it in.

So the darn thing has been incubating there ever since, advertising its presence every now and again with a punishing little twinge.

Then, this morning, there was a development. Arising from my bed in the dark, my drowsiness was counterbalanced by the dread realisation that I had stood on the upturned plug of my phone charger.

The feeling of clumsy stupidity hit my brain – about half a second before the wave of exquisite agony, followed by the unaccountable sense of relief.

Fearing the worst I sat at the top of the stairs, examined my foot – and pulled out the piece of glass.

I don't know if there's a moral to this story. I just thought I'd share it with you.