I have a scar on the back of my hand about an inch long.  I was supposed to hold the chickens legs and wing while mom cut the throat of the chicken with a butcher knife.  Being around 7 years old, maybe 8, the wing slipped out of my grip and mom with butcher knife in hand grabbed for the wing.  In the process she sliced the back of my hand.

I said, "mom, you cut my hand!"  And mom said, "no that's just chicken blood," as she wiped the blood streaming off the back of my hand.  Then she realized it was mine! 

Today I suppose kids would have gone to the ER and gotten stitches, but mom finished killing the chicken and then bandaged my hand with some Noxzema and some rags she kept for such occasions. 

70 years ago and I still have the scar.