I've only had stitches once- when I was five.
I was bored one night and decided to kill time by trying to slide across the dining room floor on a pillow (which really doesn't seem too ludicrous considering when I was fifteen, I would bump down the stairs in my sleeping bag). I would set the pillow up, back up a few feet, run, jump, and slide. Apparently the concept worked once or the idea of it working was appealing enough to keep me at it for a while. All was well and good until I backed up, ran a few steps, jumped, and completely missed the pillow. I did a face dive onto the hardwood floor. My chin split open like the Red Sea.
My parents took me to the hospital, where I received eight stitches in my chin. While at the hospital I realized that I had also chipped one of my front teeth. The moment we got home I scrambled to find the tooth piece and put it under my pillow. The tooth fairy wasn't going to stiff me. I was collecting even if it was only a piece of a tooth. (I was a greedy little five year old).
Back at school, I got to show my stitches off to my Kindergarten class. It was pretty cool until one day when we had some sort of presentation. We had to go on stage in front of other classes and as we made our way up on the stage, I heard a murmur from some jackass older kids and then a big laugh. I had been dubbed the bearded lady. I was mortified and didn't understand that kids only tend to make fun of what is right in front of them and that I would lose that moniker the second I stepped off of the stage.
Needless to say, my stitches quickly lost their appeal and I never tried to slide across the floor on my face again.