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In Middle School I told people the scar on my arm was from being stabbed with a knife. (Much more romantic than mole removal.)

The one on my ankle is from an IV cut in line, from being the youngest person on record, to survive Spinal Meningitis in 1972. (More romantic and a true story.)

The scar on my calf is from my first ride on a motorcycle, when I was 15 and no one warned me about tail pipes.The scar on my eyelid  is from my very first car accident, when my head hit the steering wheel. The one by my right elbow is from a large shard of glass my idiot ex-husband put in a trash bag, that cut me when I lifted it to put it in the bin.

The one slightly below my right knee from the sprocket on your bike and the summer I spent traveling with you while you rode your...

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