Do you like to tell stories about your scars?

I'm working on one now.  How's this:  I just got a thing removed from my chest and the scar is going be the same size as a bullet hole.  When I get home to Florida I can tell my friends I helped stop a terrorist's bullet that would have killed the real hero who, since I saved him, was able to foil a car bombing at the Alfred Nobel Museum.  Pretty good, right?

They are mostly inconsequential.  Nothing to go on about.  But if you have all night, I can go through them for you one at a time.

Starting with my heel.  I almost cut my Achilles' tendon in two when I was about 11.  Close call.  That may be the worst one of all.

Then there are all the burns from cooking and hitting the oven. 

Then there was that last one where I was in the burn unit on and off for a month because I almost burned my hand off.

But, otherwise, nothing to speak of.  Except all the broken glass stories.  -- minor stuff.   Fire and glass my two nemesesses.

No, I'm not LBJ.

I never had any to talk about until recently. The story is so boring that I tell people I was bitten by a shark instead.

no, theyre just scars from surgery

I have a scar on my finger from when I tried to make a paper snowflake and cut my poor little finger. I also have a scar on my forehead from when I split my head open on the corner of a coffee table when I was a baby.

They're mostly internal and shared with only a select few. 

Sure!  I'll tell you the story about a scar I proudly wear ;)

Once upon a time, when I was about 6, I was riding a horse named Fleet who lived across the street.
 She was a fine steed with long legs and a white star on her face.  Her black coat glistened.  It was snowing that afternoon.  We were jogging along and I buried my hands in her long mane.  It was dusk and getting late. 
We both new the trail back to the barn, and were glad we could see it wasn't too far
.
When ALL OF THE SUDDEN out of this tree
A RACCOON was on a branch, staring right at me!!!
She responded with a jump that unsettled my seat
And lunged forward heading straight for the barn,  not missing a beat

Time seemed to slow down as I floated mid-air,
the raccoon on his branch, still looking at me, with a wide-eyed stare

He watched me pass by him, on my way down
I pondered how long it was going to be, until I hit the frozen ground.

I quickly realized my landing was near
to the hard frozen ice that my face was about to fear
It ripped open my face and filled my cheeks with tears.

Fleet held to her name and ran like the wind
Luckily her owner was home, right around the bend

The raccoon, well the rascal he was,
I never caught his name but a sure ruckus he caused

Left me with a scar even a pirate would be proud to wear
I got that scar facing death!  So don't startle me...
OR  BEWARE!!

That is the story I tell about the scar on my left cheek.  You can barely see it now but when I was younger, I WAS proud to have a scar.  I was a Tomboy through and through.  All my friends were boys.  They pretty much still are.  I think I might attract them for different reasons now-a-days but when I was younger, that scar made me brave!


This post was edited by Merlin at July 7, 2017 10:19 AM MDT

Just one. I have a gnarly scar on my ankle from trying to cut myself with a box cutter blade one night. I didn’t expect it to cut so smooth and it cut very deep, the skin split and there was very little blood. I panicked but didn’t tell anyone what happened because I didnt want to be committed. 
I mean I have other scars too but that one is by far the worst. Plus it’s a funny story to tell.