I was just sitting here fondly remembering a water fight my younger sister and I got into years ago.
I think I was about 14-15; she would’ve been about 11-12.
We were watching TV, and I believe it began with her flicking me with water from her cup.
It ended when I put her in the shower and turned it on cold, full blast. 
So how did you used to aggravate each other?
Ahhh yes…nothing like you and your two brothers holding down the third, much younger brother, stripping off his shirt, smearing his face and chest with peanut butter, and calling in the family dog.
Unless, of course, you’re that youngest brother, like me. :smack:
My brother once polished the last 10 feet of the hardwood hallway, the part where you would normally turn left to go down the stairs, to a high gloss one Saturday morning, when we would both hang out in our pajamas and sweat socks. He waited at the bottom of the stairs and excitedly called for me to come down. I raced down the hall, planted my foot to make the turn, and slid hard into the wall, unable to get any traction.
A few weeks later, playing football, he was the QB, and I played defense. One play, he missed his receiver, and before I threw the ball back to him, I wiped it in a nearby turd pile. I tossed it back, and he caught it squish.
I remember getting yelled at while he bawled at the sink as my dad scrubbed his hands. I think we settled down after that.
Okay, well, once I had to have my sister banned from the SDMB for joining just to start threads calling me a “beyotch”. We were both 40 at the time. Is that “fun”? I dunno.
Depends.
Was that before or after it became a pay board? 
My 13 year old son called my 12 year old daughters boyfriend last night, and then held the phone outside the bathroom door, where my daughter was primping and singing off key at the top of her lungs
In turn, she called his girlfriend and told her that he sleeps with a stuffed animal every night and shreiks like a girl when he sees a bug
They really do love each other …I think
When my brother was coming out of a coma, he’s had a bang to the head and still wasn’t quite… right. Well he couldn’t talk either, as he’d had a traceotomy. So he’d write notes. But because of the bang to his head he came out with such classics as “The big cats got my money!” and my personal favorite “I’ve been through the star gate!”
I still have the notes. It’s fun to look at them and then mock my brother.
I was a runt. I had two older brothers. They wouldn’t let me watch Saturday morning cartoons, because it kept them from sleeping in. Basically, I would turn the the t.v. on as low as possible, and sit 2 feet from the t.v., but they’d still come out and pound me if they woke up. My big act of defiance was to turn the volume knob all the way up, then turn on the t.v.! My sister would be holding the door open and I’d run like hell and stay away from home all day long. I hated missing Saturday morning cartoons! This was in the early 70’s when they were still good.
As I got older and was more the same size as them we would intentionally make messes when it wasn’t our turn to clean a room. For example when it was my oldest brother’s turn to clean the kitchen, my other brother and I would intentionally make toast, and ‘accidentally’ drop jam on the floor, things like that.
Reminds me of the two older brothers pinning the youngest on the floor of the hallway, putting his hands and feet behind his back and tying them all to his belt, then leaving him there.
I happened across him as he was wriggling his way into the bathroom to try to get out of his pants.
Kids.
All I ever did (as older sister) was get my much younger sister to crawl into an empty refrigerator box in the backyard then stand it up on end so she couldn’t get out.
It would’ve been classic if you just stepped over him and kept walking. 
I was the youngest of 4 boys. There isn’t enough bandwidth to contain all the ways we used to torment, beat on, maim, and/or otherwise kill one another. Still, if you were to tangle with one of us you were in a serious world of hurt because you would have to tangle with all of us (even the gay one, who wrestled in high school and was lightning quick).
Well, I used to tell my little sister she was adopted-does that count?
Then there was the time she wouldn’t stop pestering me, so I tied her to a chair with an old scarf. When my mother came running to investigate my sister’s screams, she had to duck out of the room for five minutes until she could stop laughing.
I used to tickle my sister until she nearly wet her pants. I stopped the day she actually did.
This is probably lame but one time when my brother had his friends over I came in the room with a shirtless Justin Timberlake poster and said “I got the poster you wanted” and to piss each other off if one of us is doing something like playing a video game, one of us will come by and unplug it and say that’s “the devils video game”.
As far as my other siblings it’s just more lame little things that we do to each other that are mostly inside jokes.
Looking around here, the 5 of us were fairly tame by comparison. We did have some fairly good sessions of the “I’m not TOUUUCCHINNNNG youuuuu…” type. And there was that time we figured out how to pick the lock on the bathroom door, and tormented each other for couple of weeks.
Though yesterday I found a pile of “Balderdash!” slips (it’s a game where you make up definitions for words, write them down and pass them to one player to read, and everyone else tries to figure out which is the real one) from a game night less than a year ago. At the bottom of a handful of the slips were little addenda like “P.S. Dave is a shathead”(sic.) “P.S. Annie eats poop.” I mean, c’mon, we’re all in our 20s and 30s here…
Should I limit it to the times when one of us ended up at the emergency room (or should have)? There was -
The fishhook through the finger
The thrown cinder block
The being pushed through a plate glass window
My mother is 10 years older than her brother. At ten years older, physical torture’s just too easy. She preferred psychological terror. When her parents would go out, she’d be roped into babysitting. She’d spend hours leaning over his crib (and later his bed) crooning, “Mommy and Daddy left and they’re NEVER COMING BACK!!! You’re my baby now because they HATE YOU!!!”
Gee, I wonder why I was an only child?
If anyone needs tips on how to torture siblings, I provide a professional high-class reasonably-priced service. Enquire within
I was dating a guy that pretty much everyone but me hated, and one night when he was picking me up from my parents’, my brother, who was still in high school, had a friend over. They thought it would be a real laff-riot to greet ‘Doug’ by leaping out of the garage wearing hockey masks and brandishing chainsaws, as they were in a horror movie phase at that point.
Now I’m laughing hysterically as my niece turns out more like me the older she gets.
My little sister was in the kitchen one day (this was years ago) getting something. I asked from the living room what she was getting, thinking that I might like some, too.
Well, her reaction was to jump 3 feet in the air, turn around trying to hide the big gulp cup she had and tell me, “Nothing!”.
Hmmm……ok. :dubious:
She’s up to something. So I asked her could she get my book from my room for me.
She set the cup down on the counter and went to my room for me. The second she was out of the kitchen, I raced in, grabbed the cup and saw a grainy substance in the bottom.
Sugar.
Now, why would she be so secretive about a cup with a few tablespoons of sugar in the bottom?
Didn’t know, didn’t care!
Sugar goes down the drain and is replaced with an equal amount of salt.
I get back into place in the living room; she comes back with my book, returns to the kitchen and proceeds to fill the cup up to the top with milk. (See where this is going?)
Lil’ sis comes into the living room , sits in the big comfy chair in front of the tv and proceeds to take a huge gulp….the look was priceless!
I had to stop her from pouring the rest of the carton of milk down the drain because she thought it was spoiled, which meant I had to fess up to what I had done, which meant I then had to take off running.
Ah, good times. 