In other news, for those who don't read Neil Gaiman's Web-Log, he was hit in the face by a pipe by his dog.
I drove Maddy to school this morning. She has an extremely cool crescent-shaped scar next to her eye, from when, as a small child, she ran into the corner of a table. She said,
"Will you get a scar?"
"I like my scar. You know, I get people I've known since kindergarten asking me about it, these days, as if they've just noticed it."
"Really? What do you tell them."
"What you told me to tell people who asked."
I racked my brains. Nothing. "What was that?"
"I tell them I got it in a swordfight."