Yes, my parents actually let me marry the guy who burned me. We were in high school and my future husband, John (the sweet guy he is), was cooking fried okra. The oil in the pan became too hot too fast. It went up in flames in a matter of seconds. I was standing back against the wall and could not get out of harm’s way quick enough. My right foot and leg caught on fire.
According to the family historian, I was not to be trusted.
At age two, I had been left alone for about a minute when I was discovered sitting in my parents' bedroom with a bottle of aspirin -- cap off, bottle upended, contents strewn about. (Clever girl!)
I hope my story encourages parents to always buckle up their kids regardless of the situation. You don’t want to feel the pain or grief I am going through. The sadness is overwhelming, even after a year.