For me, I think it was when I was playing in the yard, and saw one of my mom’s pots of dirt for her garden, and I thought “yeah this would be good to dump on my lap”
It was full of fire ants. Big, angry, north carolinian fire ants.
I was covered in red welts and all I remember is screaming at the top of my lungs while my mom sprayed me down with a hose
I went camping with my family, was probably seven or eight years old. There was a sign right next to our camping spot to notify people about something not to do, who knows what the message was in reality but I like to imagine it as “do not bend this sign backwards to use it to catapult rocks you find laying around nearby”.
Anyway, while my parents were preoccupied with setting up our tent, my makeshift catapult hit me right by the eye. Thankfully it did not actually injure my eye itself, just huge cuts both above and below the eye, but I had a pretty good talent for screaming at that age regardless of which part of my body was hurting. I remember after an hour or something my parents kept pushing that all the other campers were going to think I was being abused, and then we packed up and left our week-long camping trip a couple hours after arriving.