"Mama, look! My knee!" I glance back and see that, where yesterday there was a skinned knee, today there is a scab. My five year old is stroking it lovingly with one finger, a dreamy sort of look on his face. He sighs and says, around his thumb, "It's at my favorite part...scabby!"
From the other side of the car, my seven year old pipes up, "Check this out! Here and here! [indicates small scar on his own knee and then a current scab on his arm] - I've been scabby for SEVEN YEARS."