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Here is my first scar from when I was 5 or 6 years old:
Isn't skin weird? Anyway, here's how I got that little beauty. I was doing normal kid stuff, collecting bugs and spiders, and decided I needed a home for them to live. So I found a glass jar with a metal lid. I knew enough to know that my new pets would need some air to live so I grabbed a steak knife and proceeded to begin punching holes in the metal lid- something I had done before so I didn't think much of it. I got a few holes in...
...and then I missed, the knife went into my hand and I pulled out the knife and ran out of the kitchen screaming and crying. You can see from the depth of the cut that the knife went pretty far in. My mother was outside working in the garden and quickly stopped the bleeding and got me patched up. I was moving the lawn by the afternoon so I guess I wasn't too traumatized.
This first scar remains my favorite because it reminds me of my happy, free range childhood- something I have tried to preserve and bring to my children.