My face got mashed into the plastic headrest in front of me. While the physical wounds healed, I was left with weird, intrusive thoughts
Is it possible to pick one regret above all others? My league table is highly competitive. Recently, I found myself presenting one of my Top 10 regrets to my five-year-old son (albeit under the guise of parental wisdom). We were discussing the importance of seatbelts and – to make my point – I suggested he reach forward and squeeze my face: prod the knuckly ridge of scar tissue in my eyebrow, then explore the blocky cartilage of my nose.
I told him I was 19 when it happened. I was in the back seat and my Australian friend was at the wheel, although it may have been her older brother. We were going … somewhere. Maybe Brisbane? To be honest, that whole day, and the days that followed, is blank. All I know is that we crashed into another vehicle and I was the only one not wearing my belt, as a result of which my face got mashed into the driver’s seat’s plastic headrest. Everyone else was OK. Or did my friend have whiplash? I can picture her in a neck brace. Anyway.
