Ten yEAR anniversary

I’m crap with dates, birthdays and the like. I could always remember my Mother’s birthday. Never Dad’s. My brother, John, 13th of August, not that I’d ever send a card to him.
About the only other date of significance is the 13th of January. That was the day I had my ear bitten off.
It’s now exactly ten years ago and yet I can remember everything.
It wasn’t a fight, I was set upon. I can remember the sound, like crunching celery, and I can remember the junior doctor in A&E telling me that I shouldn’t have put the detached piece in ice. I’ll remember that for next time!
I can remember the pain I had to put up with overnight after being sent home with the ear stuck roughly to the side of my head and held in place with a bandage, and the trip over to Mount Vernon Hospital the following day.
Anyway, ten years on and the scars [which were inside and also around the back] have faded and it doesn’t look altogether bad.
Byron is a bit squeamish about touching it and having looked at the photo and seen the hairs growing from it, I’ve given it a miss myself.
I may treat it and buy it a pint this evening.
Any excuse!