At about 12 years old, I was with my dad in an archery shop. Someone was re-fletching some arrows and had stripped the feathers and nocks and put them nock-down into a 5-gallon can of acetone on the floor. One of the arrows had a 3-blade Bodkin on it, sticking straight up. Someone asked me to "grab that stool over there" and reach up for something on a high shelf. When I stepped down, I came down on the broadhead on my right knee. It slit the knee open and ran along the bone for a couple of inches and came out. I never even felt it! When it happened, and someone saw the broadhead come out the other side of my pant leg, they hollered. I said, "It didn't cut me." But then we realized what happened. Praise the Lord, all it took was a bunch of stitches. It was a hard heal, though, because of the way the 2 blades skinned it real wide at the bone. It made for a pretty scar...