Let the Scarring Begin!
I have an impressive collection of scars, despite the fact that I’ve never played hockey or rugby. Yes, I’m clumsy. I’m not proud of that fact, I’m simply resigned to it. It’s been there from the start. I’ve never had impressive hand-eye coordination, probably because as a 
kid I used my hands to turn book pages, rather than to throw balls; or because I’m perpetually lost in thought. In this, I identify with Princeton professor Albert Einstein, who was reportedly so oblivious to his surroundings that he often walked through a fish pond on his way to class. Although, in my case, it’s not quantum mechanics but storytelling that sets me adrift. I spilled coffee on myself while I was thinking up this blog post. And it occurred to me (while spilling coffee on myself) that each of my scars represents not just a butterfingered moment, but a small revelation.
My first lumpish revelation occurred in Downey, California, a suburb of Los Angeles. No kids my age lived on our street, so out of desperation I condescended to play with 2-year-old Cheryl from next door. I began acting out a half-baked swashbuckler, leaping about in piratical jeans and juice-stained t-shirt. Cheryl was anxious to join in. So, when I shouted, “Fire the cannons!” she picked up the nearest cannon ball, an empty milk bottle, and hurled it with buccaneerish gusto.
The cannon ball exploded spectacularly. Against my bare foot. Which responded with an even more impressive explosion of blood. No fake Hollywood stuff for us, no, sir, we went in for real blood! As Mom rushed me to E.R., I had three revelations:
- Now this is an adventure!
- Adventures have costs
- Don’t stage pirate movies with toddlers
Decades later, Cheryl found me on Facebook. How she remembered the name of the hulking 6-year-old pirate who played with her when she was 2, I have no idea. But she did. Hence, her friendship, not Stevie’s, is now officially my longest-running. And the adventure continues…
I have the scars to prove it!
To read my next Scar Story, click here.
Mitch Teemley 
Haha, hilarious post
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You’re certainly a survivor, Mitch.
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God bless you, Mitch! You had me laughing out loud. (I believe we call it “guffawing.”) You have so many great talents, it’s nice to know there is some area where you fall short like the rest of us. (“He who can’t do, tells funny stories about himself. 😉 )
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Aw, thanks, Annie. I have enough shortcomings to fill several large volumes, actually.
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Likewise, which is why the Lord gave us the ability to write. 😉
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you must have made quite the impression on her 🙂
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https://heartsword.wordpress.com/2019/09/02/blogger-recognition-award/
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Thanks for the laugh and also now I finally know why I don’t have very good eye and hand coordination. I like you spent more time turning pages too! And yes my mind is often distracted by stories. 🙂
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Wow – I didn’t know pirates had exploding cannon balls. You learn something new every day …
and I found a way to never spill coffee on myself: I only drink tea.
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You must be the kind of person who is hard to forget! Blessings, Mitch!
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You too, Cindy!
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Gee whiz–the scar stories kept going and going and going . . .
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Yeah, I’ve gathered quite a collection.
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See, I don’t call my self clumsy, being a female I just say I am less graceful than others…same thing though, also with scars to prove it. Thanks for the laugh.
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Oh my goodness… Along with your many talents you’re a great story teller too!
Tks for sharing this one & yes I look forward to the next one!!
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Aw, thanks, Christie!
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So funny, so you!!! Love it! On my end, I know I would be way less clumsy if I would just slow down… Ugh! But, whatever the case on your end, Mitch, it all makes for GREAT stories! In which case, keep them coming! 🙂
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;>) Thanks, Dori!
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I enjoyed all your scar stories…yes I had to read them all. Just a little compulsive. hehe.
My daughter is like that. Tipped her high chair over while I was canning jelly (luckily didn’t get burnt by the stuff I was pouring at the time!) and bit through her bottom lip. Fell down the wooden stairs and got stitches in her eyebrow. This was before age 2! Got a hooked-shaped splinter in her hand and had to have the circulation cut off in her arm for the doctors to remove the wood. (If they had just pulled it out, it would have caught on the blood vessel and the nerve and caused major damage.) Fell out of a tree though she didn’t break anything…it was a long drop! Got into a fight at school (though more of a friendly go to than a serious knockdown drag-out…) and broke her shin. Then went back to soccer a month later and got hit by the ball and rebroke it. Fainted from overheating in the Rain Forest exhibit at the zoo and ended up with stitches in her chin.
She joined the army and served 7 years. I think all they would have had to do to shorten the war was to put her all by herself in enemy territory and they would have surrendered unconditionally.
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;>) Sound like you need to do a series entitled “My Daughter’s Scar Stories.”
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Klutz here, too. One eye is nearsighted and the other is farsighted, so I have zero depth perception. Stairs are not my friend.
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Oh, dear. Well, then, I imagine handrails are very much your friend.
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Ah, funny you should say that because that’s precisely how I broke my foot last fall: the woman whose basement I stayed in for three months didn’t have one. 😶 I so badly wanted to sue her for my medical bills, but how do you sue someone who’s letting you live in her house while you’re homeless? (This falls under the category of those “dilemmas” I posted about. Get it? Falls? Haa… 😐)
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Impressive…that’s how you know you had a real childhood, when you did something stupid and impulsive. I once acquired a rather nasty road crash on the side of my head and face because I thought it would be a good idea to push a tonka truck down the sidewalk. What I didn’t notice until it was too late was the dip in the concrete. The truck stopped, and physics took over.
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Road RASH…road rash…not road crash…autocorrect…
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I don’t know, a road crash with your head sounds pretty awesome.
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Oh, it was, until I realized that skidding across concrete on my face actually hurt. Then it became somewhat less awesome. 😂 Oh, the joys of being five.
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someone from your past will always find you on Facebook 🙂 I have a scar on my left cheek. I don;t know how it got there but if pressed I come up with stories 🙂
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Nice just loved it.☺️😄
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LOL, You are hilarious. I have some great scar stories. One of the best is a broken nose from getting hit by a big can of Hawaiian Punch 🙂
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How painfully appropriate. Did anyone yell, “Hey, how about a nice Hawaiian Punch?” before it happened? http://www.bestoldcommercials.com/hawaiian-punch-how-about-a-nice-hawaiian-punch/
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I think that commercial was playing in my head when I trying to stop the blood 🙂 I was 19 years old when that happened and was far away from Christ. I think I yelled something more “colorful” than that 🙂
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;>)
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So funny! I feel your pain. Even the children in my class know I’m the boo-boo queen. 🙂
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“The Boo-Boo Queen.” ;>) Sounds like a great kids book just waiting to be written!
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It does! Thanks, Mitch. 🙂
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Oh, yes!
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Thanks for bringing me here 🙂
Love, light and glitter
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My pleasure.
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Hi Mitch,
Yes, I understand!
Gary
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This is actually a Kool thing to talk about. I guess scars a great way to show how good your childhood was lol
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Yep. ;>)
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Gotcha!
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The more scars you have, the cooler your childhood?
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I meant it as in each scar tells a story, painful then, but it shows that you were active in your younger years so you had fun
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That makes sense.
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Oh my goodness. lol Quite the origin story there. Definitely an adventure to remember.
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