My older brother was in town a few weeks ago, and it was the first time in about 6-8 months that both of my brothers and me were together. Naturally, the stories started flying, particularly the ones where we were just absolute bastards to each other. Some notable examples: - Somebody taking a shit and not flushing, convincing someone that there was treasure in the bathroom, and then locking them in the bathroom with they would go to look. - Making "potions" with any and everything we could find in the fridge, and making someone eat it. - Starting a secret club where you could only join by letting the other brothers, and whatever friends we had over at the time, all take turns kicking you in the balls. - Convincing whoever was the youngest at the time that anything that they did that was even remotely different (example- biting a tiny piece of a stryrofoam cup and accidentally swallowing it) would result in your immediate death and the redistribution of all of your toys to the survivors. My little brother bore the most torture, you know, being the youngest and all, but also some of the funniest things to look back on and laugh. Probably my favorite story of us messing with my little brother as this one time where my mom left us home alone for about a couple of hours while she went to the store. My older brother was probably 11 or 12, making me 8 or 9, and my little brother about 5. And, like many 5 year olds, my little brother was absolutely obsessed with Batman. He friggin' loved him, and dreamed of one day being his side-kick. While we were alone, my older brother pulled me aside and explained the plan to me. My part was simple- all I had to do was make sure our little brother answered the phone at a certain time, and then just play along. So I position my little brother and myself in the livingroom, watching cartoons, while my older brother quietly slips to another room where we had a phone hooked up to a second line. The phone rings, and I make our little brother answer it. After a few seconds, his eyes get really wide, and he is awestruck. He starts excitedly stammering out responses like, "Oh my goodness, yes! I promise you, Batman, I will not let you down! Thank you, Batman! I'll be ready, I promise!". He hangs up, looks at me, and says, "That was Batman! He needs MY help to take down the Joker! He's coming in the Batmobile to pick me up in 5 minutes! I have to pack a bag and meet him at the end of the driveway!". So with my help, we throw almost all of his clothes into a suitcase, and I help him haul it to the, for some reason, now wide-open front door. Its raining outside. He says bye, and tugs the bag outside to the end of the drive, ignoring the rain. My older brother now steps out from behind the front door, shuts it, and locks my little brother outside while we both go back to watching cartoons. My mom gets home to find my little brother still sitting out in the rain, along with all of his clothes, which are now completely soaked. My little brother found out the hard way that Batman wasn't coming to get him, and my older brother and I got a whooping. Focus: All of us were assholes as kids at one point or another. What are your stories from your childhood of you being a mean, trouble-making little heathen?
There are three kids in my family - I'm the oldest, my sister is three years younger than me, and my brother is two years younger than her. We. Were. Shits. Some highlights: * when I was 5, I decided to play hairdresser with my sister. Took the safety scissors and cut off half her hair, and styled the other half with school glue. She was the only girl in pre-school with a buzz cut. * when we were in elementary school, my sister and I were standing outside waiting to be picked up and were fighting over who'd get to sit in the front seat. Rather than argue rationally, I punched her in the face just as Mom came around the corner in the ol' Buick. I got a serious ass-kicking for that. * on car trips my sister and I used to play "ping pong" with my brother. He would inevitably pass out in his middle seat (because baby rides bitch, duh) and would end up leaning on one of our shoulders. We'd just bat his head back and forth until he started wailing. * one Christmas (and I have NO idea why my parents didn't stop us), we hid all my brother's gifts in the closet and convinced him that Santa had put his presents in the pond. So, he trundled out in his pajamas with no shoes or socks, in knee-high snow, and jumped into the water to find his gifts. I'm surprised he didn't get hypothermia. There are tons more stories - these are just the ones that immediately spring to mind. We were awful to one another. It's really a mystery why we're still on speaking terms.
I'm the oldest sibling in our family, and was followed by two sisters. When my Mum announced she was pregnant again, I was so desperate to have a brother. I was only just turning 6 at the time, but I already thought there were way too many girls in the house, and said if the next (and ended up being the last) baby sibling wasn't a brother, I'd leave and find another family where I could kick a ball and play outside with. Fortunately enough, I was provided with a baby brother. I was so happy. Until my two sisters spent the majority of his childhood dressing him up in their clothes, covering his face in make-up, and taking him on trips around our backyard in the pram. I had a brother indeed.
A couple stories that stick out with my brother who's a couple years older than me. I remember back when I was 12 or so my brother was eating a pixie stick and I wanted some of it so bad. I begged him a few times to let me have some and he said no every time I asked him. I let it go and went back to playing. Well about 20 minutes later he comes to me and asks if I wan the rest of his pixie stick. I say yes and grab it and tip it back pouring the remaining into my mouth. Turns out it wasn't filled with the pixie stick sugar but salt instead. Dumping 2 tbsp. of salt in your mouth and down your throat is not fun. I spent the next 10 minutes coughing and hacking and dry heaving. The house we lived in at the time had a hard wood floor upstairs where all our bedrooms were. One day when everyone was gone I went and sprayed pledge in front of my brothers door. If you don't know pledge will make a wood floor nice and slick. My brother was in his room later when the phone rang. He bolted out of his door, hit the pledge with his sock and went ass over tea kettle almost taking a dive down the stairs.
My little brother too got the brunt of our joking. Mostly because he would erupt in wailing tears if we produced or even hinted at acting like producing a few of the things he was terrified of. The two biggest were the Freddy Krueger mask/glove and palmetto bugs (huge cockroaches from down south). It would be as easy as just wadding up some tissues and telling him we had a palmetto bug, cue screams and tears. The most complicated things we'd do would be just finding a dead one and placing it in places he'd find. I don't know why this was so entertaining at the time. Kids are jerks. My older brother and one of his friends once went nuts one time when they found out what the word cum meant and using it in place of come in sentences. A kid from down the street was over playing video games and they went to town asking him if he "came in his house" or "came in his mom when he came in his house." Well, it didn't take 10 minutes after the kid got home for us to get the telephone call from his mom. Honestly I don't even think I grasped at the time what they even meant (think we were about 10 and my brother and his friend were 14).
I grew up the 3rd of 4 boys. Needless to say, a lot of stuff was broken in our house. That said, it was very, very rarely me. I was the laid back kid that was content to let his brothers do stupid shit while I watched the fallout. There were two notable exceptions when I got really angry, though. Once, I was napping on the couch. The way our house was set up, the couch was a few steps away from the bottom of the stairs. My little brother decided to run down the stars, leap over the edge of the couch I was on, and slap me in the face as he came down, then running away. I let it go the first time. And the second time. Hell, I let it go the 15th time. Finally, around the 20th time he did this, I lost it, and chased him up stairs. We had bunk beds in our room, and the top bunk had a guard rail. My little brother dives into his lower bunk. I jump up, grab the guard rail, and swing into his bunk feet first, and proceed to kick him straight in the face, putting his head through the wall. His head was bleeding slightly and he was crying, but he was more worried about "what dad would do" when he saw the hole in the wall. The other time I lost it was when one of my older brothers was torturing me. I was the kid that just minded his own business, until someone pissed me off. On this day, my older brother made it his goal to make me angry, and did everything in his power to do so. Finally, he got his wish, and my brother (naturally) ran away like a bitch. I should note that even though my older brother is 5 years older than me, I was still bigger than him. Anyway, he hides in his room and locks the door, so I go full Hulk and kick that fucker in, and proceed to tackle him and just start swinging. My dad pulled me off and (the best part) grounded my brother for provoking me. Of course, there was also the time my little brother slammed my head in a sliding van door, but I barely remember that for some reason. To this day, my brothers all say I was my dad's favorite. I think it was more that my dad knew I never instigated anything, and that my brothers LOVED to push my buttons because I was usually so calm.
Being the younger brother I got tormented a fair amount. My brother and his friend across the street and his older brother and a couple of the other neighborhood kids and I would play kick the can. I was always "it" and I would go behind a tree and count to 153 or something while they all went inside to the other guy's house (he had cable) and I would wander around looking for people until I gave up and started screaming for everyone to come out until, lip quivering, I'd go home and tell Mom. Mom would make them promise not to do it again and they would swear they wouldn't and I'd fall for it again. And again. Little brothers are frighteningly trusting and I can see the same thing happening with my second son. I keep telling him not to believe anything his older brother tells him, but it's not getting through.
My brother and I paid our babysitter $7 to snort the sugar from a pixie stick off the sidewalk in front of our house. His reaction was about what you'd expect, and his nose was bleeding. In hindsight, I'm not sure why my parents decided it was a good idea to leave him alone with us. One year we had a shit load of little tree frogs everywhere, so naturally, we took a bunch of them and shoved them through the grate on the central air cooling unit behind the house. They would hop around inside there until one of us would go in the house and turn the thermostat down. The fan would turn on and suck them up, chopping them into little bits and splattering them all over. When my mom came out the next day to hang up clothes and saw the carnage, she promptly lost her shit. We had a wildlife pond by our place where we spent a lot of time catching frogs and crayfish and shit like that. One day my brother came up to the garage with a bucket of toads, and my dad and one of his buddies were standing there. "Hey dad, look at these toads I found." They looked in the bucket and saw a bunch of bright colored toads. Green ones, red ones, yellow ones, white ones and even a few that looked metallic. They were blown away, because they had never seen toads like that around here. Well, it turns out they were spray painted. John Deere green, John Deere yellow and Krylon chrome aluminum were among the colors he used. Another one of our babysitters used to drive her mom's minivan to our place when she'd come over. One night after my parents got home I snuck out and hid in the back seat of her van. She got in and drove away, and about a mile from home I jumped up and screamed. Talk about scared shitless. She drove me back home while sobbing and yelling at me.
Alright, guess I wasn't the only one who's sibling bonding involved torture and maiming of small animals.
I can't recall anything truly damaging that I did to my little sister outside of telling her to shut up until she started crying and shooting her with an airsoft gun a few times. I do remember I'd convince her to play "midnight dodgeball" which was just turning off the lights in the basement and pummeling each other with nerf shit for about an hour. She would always get smashed with something and limp away crying to my mom. I remember the one time she and I chucked her life-size baby doll down the stairs and I told her to start screaming. My mom came running to the steps and saw a limp baby body and started freaking out, only to find the two of us bowled over laughing at the top of the steps. My buddy was the king of terrorizing his younger sibling, though. Spoiler My favorite story of his happened when he was left to take care of his little brother while his parents went out for dinner. As soon as his parents left, he turned to his then 7 year old brother and told him that he was on his own because he was going down the street to a friend's house. Just as he was about to shut the door, he said, "Oh, and lock the doors, because some guy broke out of a mental institution and the cops haven't gotten him yet. Well...See ya!" He walked far enough down the road so that his brother couldn't see him anymore and then crossed over through a couple backyards to get back to the house. At which point he grabbed a rake from the shed and started lightly scratching at the windows. After he did that for a bit, he started tripping all the motion light sensors at every corner of the house and rang the doorbell a bunch of times--always making sure not to be seen. Finally, he went into his mom's car and used her cell phone to start calling the house. His brother picked up the first couple times, clearly shaken and scared, but stopped after the third time when he started crying and hung up. Obviously time to unveil the icing on the cake of horror that he had been baking, he smeared ketchup all over himself and burst through the back door and into the room his brother was cowering in, shouting "He's coming! He's comiiiiiiiiing!" From what he told me, his brother launched himself so hard in the opposite direction that he appeared to hover and wasn't seen again for the rest of the night. When his parents came home and asked where his brother was, he told them he was probably up in his room. They found him holed up in their closet with the dog and a BB gun, shivering. Another time, he snuck into his bedroom and started gently tapping at the underside of his mattress and making strange whispering noises. When his brother woke up and timidly asked, "who's there?" he reached over the side of the bed with some wolfman glove on and dragged him under the bed, screaming and urinating the whole way down. It's a wonder the kid wasn't in therapy.
FTFY Focus: I was the oldest of 4, and the only boy. So my shenanigans weren't as rough and tumble as my friends who had brothers, but we were far from angels. -When I was 5, my sister was probably 6 months old. Laying on the floor in the family room, cooing and gurling, just the epitome of the really happy baby she was. So I bit her hand, really hard. Why? Cause I thought babies were supposed to cry, and she never cried. -The same sister, later in life, got angry that I wouldn't help her clean the family room. So she whipped a remote control at me and hit me square in the face, splitting open my lip. I ran over and smacked her in the head causing her to burst into tears. After I returned home from the hospital with 5 stitches and a tooth that would later need to be root canal'd and capped, guess who got grounded cause "you don't ever hit your sister." Yep, some bullshit. -I was in, idk, second grade, when we had a bunch of kids over in the summer, playing out back. One of the girls in the neighborhood was a bully, owing the the fact that she was 2-3 years older than us and a tomboy and took great joy in trying to boss me, her brother, and a few other kids around. Well, likely inspired by Hook, one day she tried to pull some shit, and we went all Lost Boys and beat the hell out of her. I specifically to this day remember wearing gloves and hitting on her back and thinking my hands looked really cool. And also smugly refusing to apologize and being grounded for a week. -Since I never had a brother, my next door neighbor who was 3 years younger became a de facto younger brother. I used to torture him. We'd play "Houdini" where you had to escape from a linen closet from the inside. Well I'd fill it with so many pillows and blankets while he bragged and then play video games as he screamed to be released for 20 min. I also would dump soda or kool-aid on him "by accident" before we would play in the woods or weeds behind our houses and then cackle with glee as his mother reamed him out for coming back looking like fly paper. None of this compares to my mom who with her brother terrorized her youngest brother included puncturing his ear drums by sticking Q-tips roughly in his ears cause they were making him a "martian" and concussing him because he claimed he could beat them up with no arms or legs, so they tied him up and basically pushed him around in an alley till he lunged and hit his head, also resulting in a separated shoulder. So they ran and he had to hop down the street home. Oh, the 60s...
My approach was more practical joke style than violent. Although she was only 3 or 4 at the time, my sister still remembers how I would her she was adopted. Once she caught on to that lie, i convinced her she was a robot. The only time things got physical was when I chased after her, she tripped, and split the bridge of her nose open on the bed frame. The day before she had a portrait photo taken. Mom and dad were not happy. Mom was the target once, when I put a rubber band around the trigger for the hose at the kitchen sink. Not only did she get soaked when she turned on the faucet to do the dishes, but she turned it off and on a few more times before she figured out what was wrong. My youngest cousin was the target once. I had heard that if you put someone's hand in a cup of warm water while they are asleep they will wet the bed. So his brother and I tried it out on him, and sure enough it worked. Luckily, he's either forgotten the incident or forgiven me, because we are good friends now. And he's large.
Didn't stop my cousin and I. He's a couple of years older than me and when I was 5 he was 9. We'd get along great until we got in an arguement over some trivial bullshit that kids argue about. Then all bets were off. He beat me with a rolling pin because I made fun of him for not being allowed to eat mayo (he was chubby and his parents were a bit overbearing). I couldn't do anything about it and later we were eating at the table when I got scolded for something by my grandmother. He kind of chuckled, I don't even think it was at me to be honest but I was still pissed about the rolling pin thing so long story short he still has a scar on his arm from where the fork stuck.
My brother was 4 years older than me and until I turned 15 or so, he held a pretty decent size advantage over me, so any time we got into a fight, he beat the crap out of me. So one time, after receiving said whooping, I plotted to exact my revenge. I went to the school yard and started mouthing off to the school yard badass, finishing the taunt with, "I'm not afraid of him. My brother said he was a pussy and could kick his ass up and down the yard without breaking a sweat." I almost felt bad for my brother as he was getting the shit knocked out of him after school the next day. Almost. The best part was watching him have to explain to our father why he looked like Chuck Wepner after the Ali fight, as I gave him the Cheshire cat grin.
I stuck a fork in my brother's arm when he reached across the table and tried to take the last pork chop after I'd clearly called it. He had it coming.
One time, when my brother and I were sharing a room, he wouldnt let me in because he wanted to be alone or something. I tried pushing the door, but I could only get my arm through as he was wedging the door with his body. So naturally I pulled down my pants and peed all over him until he moved. It didnt take long.
It's funny because of my brother's friends the only one who seemed to consistently wanted to fuck with us in the same light as this thread was an only child. He was the one who instigated the cum/come story in my first post. But he rocked at guitar and I thought he was the coolest dude on earth. My cousin convinced her little brother that he was adopted. Since he was the only one in their family to have blonde hair. He believed it for years and years. Some how he never actually asked his parents about it.