Writing Journal 6: An Accident

 9.17 AM.

    I think my biggest accident was when I was around one and a half years old. We were living in Carboneras and I was a really well behaved kid, but that day I wouldn't stay still. My mum was getting ready to cook something in a big pot, which was full of boiling water, and I had decided that getting on the oven's door seemed pretty cool. My mum had stopped my a thousand times already, but in a second, I opened the oven's door, got up on it an tipped the pot over myself, the result: a baby full of burns because of the water. My mother immediately put me under cold water, but it was winter and I was wearing long sleeves, so my arm kept the heat and even after the medics healed me, I ended up with three big scars on my arm. 

    I've told this story millions of times, because even though for me, those scars are part of myself, I don't remember my arm without them, every time I meet someone new they ask me what they are and how I got them. 

    My brother, who used to bite my arms pretty hard when we where kids (he's almost three years younger than me) thought for a long time that he had caused those scars because of the biting... I think he put too much thought into that, it's not like he was a T-Rex when he was young. Actually, when he was two or so, he had an accident too (well, he's had a lot, once he fell down the stairs and got a big cut on his forehead, and now he kind of looks like Harry Potter; another time he was sitting down and fell back, then got a cut on the back of his head...). He was walking down the street and he just tripped and fell down, but he was soooo lucky that he broke one of his front teeth, so he spent lots of years with a missing tooth.

    It might seem like we were unruly kids or prone to accidents, but it might've just been our luck, kind of rotten, by the way.

9.25 AM.