“You mean you’ve never broken your nose?” the other man asked.
He looked at the guy. “What’s the big deal?”
“I don’t understand how a boy can grow up without breaking your nose. You weren’t ever punched in the nose?”
“No.”
“Wow.” Grinning, the man shook his head. “Wow.”
Which made him feel bad. Two broken necks, a digit cut off, stitches in five places, a broken ankle, and a displaced wrist, but he’d never had a broken nose.
It felt like he’d been doing something wrong.
Michael Seidel, writer 
I’ve not broken my nose, what am I going wrong?
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I don’t know, friend. I didn’t break mine, neither. Thought about insulting the wife until she hit me, but she’s a pacifist. I can’t get a break.
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