Last night during supper, I felt under my chin and was reminded of my second scar. I had forgotten about it over the years. I smiled and looked at the girls.
"Did you know I have a scar here?" I lifted my head and pointed to the thin line.
They were surprised and shook their head "No"
I told them my story.
"When Missi and I were young, Grandpa Moe remodeled our old, square, pink house. He ripped out the carpet in the living room and replaced the floor boards with wood - you know the orange kind, speckles?"
They knew what I was talking about.
"It was perfect for rollerskating. I had those rollerskates that strapped on to my shoes and was rollering around the living room like nobody's business. Only I wanted to go faster. So I had Missi push me. And she did. And I fell. The only thing I remember is the bang on my jaw and looking at it in the bathroom mirror with your aunt."
I don't remember how old I was but it was before the dog bite. I don't remember actually getting the stitches or having stitches. I just remember the feeling of the thud and the sound of my sister crying because "she" hurt me.