In 1st or 2nd grade I inadvertently stabbed myself in my left hand. At this point I can't really remember exactly how or why it happened, but it's still there almost 20 years later. I've considered trying to cut it out, but why bother?

In middle school I kept putting my feet in a tray under the desk of the kid in front of me. He told me to stop because it was annoying him and being the asshole I was (and still am to an extent) I did not stop. He reached around me stabbed me with his pencil. I swear it was a 1/2 inch deep and it bled for two days. We became sort of friends for a bit in high school bonding over a mutual love of cars. Still have some graphite in there, and a scar.