I know most associate this heading with the nursery rhyme "The three little pigs" but it reminds me of what the doctor said after I cut my chin for the second time, "if there's ever a third time, we'll need to repair it with plastic surgery"!

The first time was when I was eight. Back then milk bottles were made of glass. We'd just come back from holidays and my mum told me to go and ask a neighbour to leave a note in one of her empty milk bottles to say us at number 20 were back and to leave milk for us. Instead, our neighbour gave me a bottle of milk. When I went into our kitchen, I promptly stood on a mat that slipped from under me, fell and smashed the bottle. I cut my chin about a centimetre below my mouth and cut my wrist so you could see the bone. I can remember sitting in casualty with a nappy wrapped around my wrist and my chin held in another. But my most vivid memory was my chin being sewn up with eleven blanket stitches. With every needle I squeezed the nurse's hand. I'm sure by the end of it her hand was sore.

The second was when I was eleven. Cycling uphill with flip-flops on. My foot slipped and my chin hit the handlebars of my bike. I remember pushing the bike home with blood dripping on the ground. This time a local GP stitched it up. You can see the plaster from my first form photo. It was that doctor who said plastic surgery may be required the next time.

Looking back now, the doctor was probably kidding but his threat certainly has worked. So far I've not fallen, but reading an article on how prone we are to fall as we get older, I may need to consider buying the airbags they recommended, that will fit around my waist belt to avoid me falling badly cutting myself or breaking a limb.

Sounds funny, but did we ever think we'd have airbags in cars?