I was told that I held a crayon at shoulder height to my right side and walked the perimeter of my bedroom leaving behind a not-quite-straight line on the wall a couple feet off the floor. Art!
Found a .22 short once while just old enough to know what it was.
I started smashing it flat with an old iron starting at the bullet end.
It got fun when I reached the other end.
I’d just purchased 6 x 4l of paint to do a makeover in our house. I’d left it in our loungeroom to begin painting the next day.
Kid 3 woke up early, and thought that stacking paint tins was just like stacking blocks! Two x 4l went spewing EVERYWHERE, and the carpet was ruined.
Yeah. I still haven’t forgiven him…he’s 28 now.
:mad:
My two toddlers aged 1 and 2, got into a container of honey once. Covered each other, poured it on the carpet, where it soaked down to the carpet pad, even the cat got some on him, poor guy. I carried two sticky, honey-covered toddlers straight to the bathtub (and needed a bath myself after that) and then set to getting it out of the carpet.
There’s still a sort of dark area (that was 6 years ago) but at least the ants don’t seem interested anymore. It was a lot of work.
I used to have a yard customer with two small boys. The younger one was about four. The mother told me that he woke up early one morning, went into the kitchen, took a large bowl of chocolate pudding out of the refrigerator, and smeared it all over himself! Then he went into his parents’ room and got in bed with them! :eek:
Once when my boys were little they peed into the floor vent in the bathroom. It took me a while to figure out why the bathroom I had just cleaned still smelled strongly of urine, but only intermittently, as the central heat kicked on and off. We had to go under the house and cut into the air duct to clean it out.
When I was little I had this set of Old West action figures (Johnny West and his friends). One of their accessories was a buckboardthat hitched up to horses, complete with harness.
I’ll just say that the buckboard was the perfect size to hitch up to the cat and leave it there. 
This may help you: My friend has 4 children. 3 girls and a boy. 3 out of the 4 kids are married, one’s in college now. The oldest adopted a newborn 3 months ago and conceived another one the night they got the first one. Her brother became a father a month later. #2 daughter is having a boy in January. So take heart and remember this: Your grandchildren will be your revenge. All you have to do is remember not to murder your children, m’kay?
Touché!
It’s a long train of revenge; I know for a fact my parents are laughing.
You reminded me! My aunts all used to put coconut oil and stuff like that in their hair, but my mom wouldn’t let me oil my hair and I wanted to. So I had this really soft and cute bunny and I decided I was going to oil his hair (fur). I couldn’t find any oil, though, so I used a bottle of my mom’s sewing oil. Poor thing was so greasy and gross that we had to throw him out.
I also got clearly remember getting in trouble for playing cricket in the courtyard at my aunt’s house in India.
Um…stuffed animal bunny or did you throw away a live pet rabbit?
Really? Really?
Oh, yeah. Every time my granddaughter has a tantrum or is otherwise wicked I say “Payback’s a bitch,” to my daughter. And then I laugh and laugh.
I always say “It’s a darn good thing they’re cute or they’d never live to puberty.”
The laundry list of mischief I & my brothers got into would go on for pages. It’s a wonder we *did *survive to Kindergarten age, much less to puberty and beyond.
I was oldest and as such usually the ringleader. The Episode With The Snails was the one my Mom liked to tell on me in later years.
MY aunt used to complain about my mischief, especially my habit of running off at the least provocation, all the time. Then when I grew up and went to India with her we went to visit my uncle, her elder brother, and somehow we got onto this topic. My uncle turned to my aunt and said, “Do you remember when you scaled the (three-foot-high) wall outside of our property and ran off? Do you remember how many times you did that?”
Cue my looking smug. 
My dad and his brother saw a jellyfish on the beach and grabbed a stick. My grandmother screamed a bit too late and they learned why you don’t mess with Mr. Jellyfish.
I spent a good chunk of my teenage years feeling bad in the back of my mind about the time when I was 5 or 6 and I doodled all over my parents’ comforter with my mom’s lipstick. But apparently, as I found out when we were doing some reminiscing at a family get-together, I made that memory up as my parents will not admit to any knowledge of lipstick related damages.
The angriest my parents ever got at me was when they found out I’d spent a happy afternoon burning all my dad’s whiskey in the basement. At the time, I didn’t really get the anger. It was a cement floor, I cleared everything flammable a good 2 feet away and I had a cereal bowl of water in case things got out of hand. I felt like all the sensible precautions had been taken.
Well, you missed one: you shouldn’t have done it in the first place.
Well, apparently there was no lasting damage so I go with “a great learning experience.”