I have never broken a bone. I've dislocated a couple, but that doesn't count.
No, my crowning moment of idiocy came when I was ten or so. See, it had been raining, and my parents were the kind to hook up computers to like three chained surge protectors and still not allow them on during anything that even looked like weather. So I was bored. While I waited for the earth to dry, I went over to my friend's house. She lived next door. Now we were bored together, because her parents were like mine. So we decided to have some wholesome outdoor activities. She got a little stuffed bear, and I got the matches.
Well, she dropped the bear in a puddle, so matches just didn't cut it. I got the bright idea to get some spray paint, because I knew it would function much like a blow torch and cremate the bear in no time at all. Actually, water based paint doesn't really do that, so all I did was paint the bear black. It was time to get out the big guns. Gasoline.
We had a gallon jug of gas in the garage, so I sneaked over and borrowed it. We doused the bear in gasoline and held a match to it. However, the bear was still too wet to burn, so all we did was ignite the small lake of gas below the bear (mounted on a tiki torch). We put that right out, and pondered what to do next. We eventually decided to wait for the bear to dry, and in the meantime, prepare for the immolation.
I decided that the gasoline needed to be in cups to prevent the can from exploding, so we got some cups. Styrofoam cups. Before we filled them, we decided that the bear was dry enough. I picked up a cup and lit a match while my friend poured the gas into the cup in my hand. Did you know that, when brought into contact with gasoline, styrofoam melts? And when it melts, it mixes with the gasoline, becoming primitive napalm? I sure didn't. I lit up like a heretic in the Spanish Inquisition. I threw the flaming jelly in my hand at the bear, missed, and hit a tree. This tree was very very wet, so the napalm burned out before it could be visibly harmed. So good for the tree.
I was not so lucky. Most of the napalm had fell onto my shoe before ignition, so my friend tore it off and threw it at the bear, hit it, and lit the torch on fire. My hand, however, received second degree burns in the process of me screaming at things and failing to put it out as soon as possible. The bear wasn't even singed.