I have a few.

As for the sillier stories: I have some very faint, small scars on my knees. I went to a daycare for my summers during my elementary school years, and once or twice a week they'd take us hiking. I'm a very clumsy person, and I'd frequently end up tripping, and with the number of times I fell, the law of probability indicates that I gashed open my knee on rocks a few times.

A more recent one is a scar that runs diagonally across the middle phalanx of my left index finger. When I'm in a more up mood I have a tendency to want to go fastfastfast, and when I was grabbing a butter knife from the silverware drawer I ended up closing it at the same time, jamming the knife in between. When I moved my hand, I ended up cutting myself.

It sliced entirely through the layer of flesh.

You know, with a butter knife.