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Forehead--chicken pox
left forearm--piece of burning plastic
right ankle--lacerated on some metal from a recliner chair foot extension
 

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Pick one, lol.

My favorite is the one just above my right knee.

I was 11. We went to the beach early in the morning, but had to leave when the beach was evacuated due to a tornado warning. So, we drove an hour home to sunny skies. Dad decided to BBQ and invite our beach friends plus pretty much everyone else he knew and/or was related to. I was assigned the task of setting up the volleyball net. I was kneeling on the grass, the metal net pole in my hands, I raised it above my head to ram it into the ground and missed. Ended up basically coring my thigh. I was a tough kid and didn't want to miss the party for stupid stitches, so I talked my parents into slapping some NuSkin over it. An hour after I was patched up, I started my first period. After that was sorted out, I went outside to play with the other kids. During a game of tackle football, I landed in a patch of poison sumac.
 

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Left pinky finger. Decided it was a good idea at the age of 3 to stick said finger in between a swinging door and the door jam. Needless to say said pinky was not only broken but had a gash. My pinky being so tiny a cast of any sort would not work. A band aid was employed. Healed fine. Left a scar. I don't do that crap with my pinky any longer.
 

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Other than that did you enjoy the day.🤕
It was better than the next day. The poison sumac really took hold overnight. I looked like Hellboy for over a week.

Cherry on the sundae? My mom was disabled and couldn't drive or even walk more than a few hundred feet, at best. So, she had to send a sibling to summon my dad to the bathroom. She explained I'd started my first period and sent him to the store to get supplies for me. My dad, being a terrifying looking construction worker with a soft and gooey center, walked out the house teary eyed. Someone asked why and he decided this would be a great time to tearfully announce to all and sundry his baby girl is growing up, started menstruating, and will be leaving him all too soon. I came out of the house behind him and heard the whole thing. I got many hugs and congratulations, some advice, and learned that extreme public embarrassment is not actually fatal.
 

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One is from my buddy John throwing a bottle at me while we were playing in a dump. I can still see the blue bottle coming at me and hearing the wo wo wo as it turned thru the air. Caught me right in the temple and made a bloody mess out of me.
 

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#1 Fell down steps when 4 yrs - stitches on bottom of chin - still can see it 53 years later
#2 Scraped top of foot on bottom of a pool (age 13) made of sharp stones - still can see scar
#3 Fell of Bike while racing - foot slipped off peddle (major wreck at full speed) - can still see scar on knee and hip (age 14)
#5 While foot racing in gym on a basketball court - kept running full speed across the baseline and tried to stop myself before hitting wall with with my arms - one arm gave out and forehead hit stone wall - stitches across left eyebrow (age 16). Once healed could not see scar as still had young thicker eyebrows. Now, at age 57 - eyebrows thin and can see it big time.
#6 Nail in board cut on left thigh (age 13) can still see it.
#7 left calf - hit on corner of dishwasher - major scar (age 55)
 

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Small forehead scar ~ got hit by an errant pebble being hurled by one of my 7th grade classmates, requiring 4 stitches.

He was just too good of a friend to tattle on! I told my teacher that I fell down onto the ground and must have hit something hard!

I think she believed me!
 

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Two fingernails on the same hand that are slightly flat due to being smashed in a door jam at age 2. It is hardly noticible if I keep my nails shorter and natural.
 

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Confession time - when I was 14 I was a "Bus-spotter" with a decent "racing" bike.

Where - the very fast steeply downhill left hand bend on to what I was to discover was the newly resurfaced (but not yet swept) road outside Twickenham Ambulance Station by the then Fulwell Trolley-bus Depot.

What - a reversed capital K about three inches north to south on my left knee.

Rode 8 miles home on my bike without loosening the stitches provided by Teddington General's A&E.

Almost 60 years later - only a feint inverted Y located a couple of inches south of my patella.
 

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Elbow, decided to turn left a tad too sharply into a driveway on my bicycle, stacked it and left blood and skin on the pavement. Picked the scab over the next few weeks and instead of healing left a scar.

Can't help it, it was itchy -_-
 

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A tussle with big Sis and the corner of an end table. Below right knee. Thirteen stitches later and the ER doc telling me that as I grew the scar would travel up my leg. Damn liar! Watched that thing for years and it never moved a millimeter.

Left ankle caught in spokes of big brother's bike when six. No shoes on. Looked like hamburger. One angry brother.
 

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Left pinky finger. Decided it was a good idea at the age of 3 to stick said finger in between a swinging door and the door jam. Needless to say said pinky was not only broken but had a gash. My pinky being so tiny a cast of any sort would not work. A band aid was employed. Healed fine. Left a scar. I don't do that crap with my pinky any longer.
Two fingernails on the same hand that are slightly flat due to being smashed in a door jam at age 2. It is hardly noticible if I keep my nails shorter and natural.
What is it with bloodthirsty doors?

When I was a kid we rented a house for a year that had one of the old heavy (I think?) aluminum doors with a very fast and hard closure. I cannot count how many times I ran out that door, not paying attention, and had it slam on my right pinky finger. Never got cut, but was damn near constantly losing the nail on that finger.

Which one? Doesn't matter chances are it had something to do with my older sister.
Not mine, but DD2. DD1 (then aged 9) and DD2 (then aged 4) were jumping on the bed one morning many years ago. DD1 came into the living room where I was cleaning to tell me her sister was bleeding. I didn't hear a sound and didn't think much of it. Told DD1 to bring DD2 to me thinking it would be a tiny wound with maybe a drop or two of blood.

Nope!

DD1 walks back into the living room holding a blood soaked towel to the head of DD2. DD2 was just gushing. I grabbed the girls and my son, threw them in the car, and went to the ER. 12 staples to the head. DD2 refused to let me carry her, insisted on walking in herself, and told the doctors "tis only a flesh wound". Never made a sound from whacking her head to getting stapled up to when the staples were removed 10 days later.

The girls are 26 and 21 now. To this day, DD2 swears DD1 pushed her and she fell into my night table. DD1 swears DD2 fell all on her own and she has no idea how she could possibly be accused of any wrongdoing. Considering they spent half their childhoods trying to kill each other and the other half teaming up on me, I tend to believe DD2.

Thankfully, she can cover the scar with hair styling and it's not noticeable at all unless you part her hair to cut or dye it.
 
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