Try crushing a light bulb with your fingers. I still have the scar to remind me of that mishap.
My godson crushed a Christmas ball, at the age of nearly two, ending up covered in shimmering glass and blood.
For months he would freeze in his movements, look at his hands with glazy eyes, muttering: "ball....broken". Then he would lift his head again and go on with what he was doing.
I have a a scar left from stepping into buried broken beer-bottles. The wound healed weird, so I had to get it checked every other week for months. That in a time when you could not make appointments, just had to go sit in the waiting-room, and hope it was your turn within two hours. Ahh, the good old times.
