The Friendship Scar

In March of 2005, Brooke and I went on a ski trip to Breckenridge with a bunch of our friends. A few days before we left Tulsa for Colorado, Brooke and I decided to play a little one-on-one basketball. She'll tell you the story differently, so let's just say it ended with me winning the game and her breaking her ankle by landing awkwardly on top of my foot. She wound up not able to do any skiing during the trip.

This is probably why I now have a severely broken ankle from another Breckenridge ski trip. Karma.

Anyway, that's not the point of this post. Last night, I got an email from one of my friends on that 2005 ski trip.

You should know that Ken and I named your scar the Friendship Scar, that it may always remind you of the time you didn't invite your old ski buddies to their favorite old ski trip destination with you.

They weren't on the 2010 trip and felt left out. Therefore, they think they get the naming rights to all of my scars. They've named the one above the Friendship Scar. I have at least one, if not two more scars from Monday's surgery that might end up being even more gnarly.

Should I give out the naming rights to these scars as well?