I never had any serious accidents as a child, but I was a klutz that had a lot of little accidents. When I was about four years old, I rode my tricycle in the gangway of our house. The house next door was a long brick building. I got too close to the neighbor's house, and instead of getting off my tricycle and moving it over away from the building, I continued to ride until I ran out of the building and ended up being scraped up on my elbow, arm, and the whole side of my leg.
Another time, I fell on the gravel playground at school and got gravel in my wound, which caused quite an infection. However, the dumbest accident I had was when some boys were teasing me and my friend at my grandmother's house. She had about six cement stairs leading up to the porch. My friend and I decided to throw stones at the boys. I threw so hard that I threw myself down the stairs. Fortunately, I only ended up with skinned knees.
I kind of grew out of that stage, but when I was an adult, I drove to the bakery for my mom one morning. It was after a big snowstorm, and the Chicago streets were full of ruts. As I got back in my car, I stepped on the top of a rut and slid under the car. I had quite a time trying to slide out from under the car as the street was quite icy.
The only other mishaps I had were sewing my finger twice with my sewing machine, and once, I had a small fracture on my foot and had to wear a boot for a week or two.
As I age, I try to be careful. I watch where I walk and always hold on to the railings when going up and down the stairs.