My siblings and I had a long running stunt when any of us would leave food unattended, the others would jab their fingers in it and leave holes. Since there was five of us, leaving a sandwich unguarded for too long would result in it having four finger sized holes in it when you got back.
When anyone leaves food around the office here, i carefully put a post-it note in, on or around the unattended food with a nice little message saying “I did NOT put a booger in your food”
They never believe me! 
I use to put dirty stinky socks or underwear in my siblings pillowcase just before bed. The aroma usually hits just about the time your drifting off to sleep. I once superglued a nickel to my little brothers forehead when he was 8. Took my mom 2 hours to get it off and my brother still says he has a scar from it.
When my older brother brought home his first car (a 57 Rambler), I put rocks in the hubcaps, a block of wood under the gas pedal, and bent the glovebox door latch so it would open without pushing the button. A couple of his friends came over and they decided to go for a drive. First he couldn’t get the car to start because of the block of wood. Took him 15 minutes to find it. The the rocks rattled in his hub caps when he backed up, he took of 3 of them to stop the noise (gee, I put rocks in all 4???). When he finally got out of the driveway, the glovebox door would fall open when he accelerated whacking whoever was in the passenger seat right in the shins. Remember, gloveboxes back then were made of steel and were heavy.
The secret of the 4th hub cap was revealed when he came home later. The 2 rocks I put in the hub cap became stuck between the cap and the wheel. Everytime he went over 25 mph, the right front tire would start shaking and vibrating. He threatened to pay me back but never did.
Ah memories…
Our best practical joke:
In the early evening when we were sure our little brother was glued to the TV, my brother and I got a paper bag and crayoned a face on it. Then we stuffed it with newspaper and put one of my mom’s wigs on it. (Wigs were big in the '60s.)
Then we stuffed a long-sleeved shirt and pants, attached the paprbag head, and put it in his bed.
Later that night, all sleepy, he padded off to bed. We waited outside his door, listening.
His shriek, “MOM, MOM THERE’S A MAN IN MY BED!!!” sent us into gales of laughter.
We still laugh about it now, nearly 40 years later!
I put salt in everyone’s drink at dinner once a few years ago. Everyone’s, that is, except my brother’s. He got in big trouble, despite his denials…
I havn’t laughed this much all day. Thankx everyone for the chuckles.
But, although there are many (4 kids in one house…), my most victorious trick was one played by me on my sister. I was seven and she was four, and our grandparents were visiting, they gave us each a 5 dollars and I promptly spent mine on candy. I had exactly a nickel left and the greedy little thing that I was… I traded my sister the nickel for her 5 dollars. See I explained to her about how paper was useless and how a piece of silver was so valueable, and how I was giving her the opperuntity to invest. She bought it and I got 5 more dollars worth of candy.
Oh and when my older brother was having a sleep over, I was about 7 and he was 16. I locked all his friends in his room (he had a hook and eye lock on the outside of his door to his room) and me and my parents went to a neighbors for dinner. We returned to one very angry brother, and two boys who needed the bathroom so badly, one had gone out the window. Needless to say… I paid for that greatly later.
When my brother was younger I powdered him head to toe playing house he had so much powder on him he was choking
Then there was the time he peed in my bed with me in it
Then I once convinced him we found him on the door step
He put salt in my coke … I used to hide his tapes after he drove me nuts with them Hed line the catbox with my homework
Wed go on for years like this
My grandfather, my great-uncle Paul and my great-aunt Lu convinced my great uncle Franny that he was adopted. My great-grandparents were out that night, for something or other, and so my Pappap and his siblings started tormenting poor Uncle Franny (who was the youngest at that time), that he was adopted and from some Polish family that didn’t want him.
My great-grandparents came home to a sobbing uncle Franny.
Oh God. The mean, rotten tricks we played on each other. I feel so ashamed.
Once we locked my younger sister out of the house. (parents weren’t home). She pounded on the door with her fist, breaking a small little window on the door. (this door had 3 little windows). She was all upset because she knew our parents would be mad. (sis was only 7) Then I pretended to call the glass store. I told her it was going to cost 5 thousand dollars to fix it. Mom and dad would have to sell their cars to get the money. Dad wouldn’t be able to get to work with no car and would lose his job. He wouldn’t be able to pay the mortgage, and we’d all end up living on the street. She was absolutely hysterical until my parents came home.
Back in those days a little window like that cost about $3.
My brother used to record himself screaming at the end of a long play cassette tape. Then he’d rewind it, put the tape player hidden in the house somewhere, then leave, making sure everyone knew he was leaving. The blank tape would play for 59 minutes until it got to the end part. We’d be sitting in the family room when all of a sudden we’d hear some screaming somewhere. We’d be scared out of our wits wondering what the hell that was. He’s pulled this about a million times before we found out what it was!
Oh, God. I can’t stop at just one post on this subject!
When I was a kid I got stung by bee’s all the time, so I developed a phobia of them. Once, near my birthday, my brother went to a honey farm located in Plymouth, WI…
So I’m unwrapping this big gift box he gives me, open the box, and there inside was about a million bees…all dead, but still there. 14 years old and I thought I was going to have a heart attack! Everyone at the party was laughing but me. Even my parents thought it was a hoot.:mad:
One time my sister learned that my brother had applied for a managers job at some new restaurant. Knowing he didn’t have a snowballs chance in hell, she had some boyfriend call my brother up, posing as the owner of the establishment. The “owner” told my brother that he was so impressed with his resume’ that he didn’t even need an interview. He wanted to hire him as the head manager right away. Come in and start on monday!
I would have loved to have been there when my brother walked in, like he owned the frickin’ place, and told everyone he was the new manger, and he was in charge!:p:p:p:p:p:p:p:p:p
I’m glad I wasn’t in on that, though. Was he ever pissed!
Caught@Work, I misread this as “who could place their nose over the others mouth and blow” :eek:
Despite the fact that we’ve always looked a great deal alike (especially when we were small), I convinced my sister when she was about 4 or so that she was adopted. She went crying to Mom. Mom thought it was funny.
Then later, we’d have exchanges like this:
Me: When you’re 12, all your hair is going to turn purple and fall out.
Her: NO it’s not.
Me: Yes it is.
Her: Well…you’re related to me so the same thing is going to happen to you.
Me: No, because you’re adopted.
Her: MOM! <sob>
Wow. I thought I was a mean big sister, but you people have me beat by a lot. I played jokes on all my sibs but one brother in particular was (is) a frequent target. I have superglued piles of change to his desk, hidden hardcover books in his pillowcase and metal folding chairs under his sheets, and placed a bumper sticker on his car that said “Warning: Driver is not potty-trained.” When he was about ten, he wanted and got a Cabbage Patch doll that he was pretty attached to. I kidnapped it several times, leaving ransom notes. Once I stuck it in the vegetable crisper (because that’s where you keep cabbage, right?) and another time I hung it by its feet, bound and gagged, outside his bedroom window. Scared the crap out of him when he opened the curtains.
This is terrible. I’m feeling really ashamed of myself right about now.
Let’s see, there’s the time I mixed up some mud-water in an old gallon milk jug and told my brother it was chocolate milk. I was only 6 or 7 at the time, and didn’t understand about germs. But even then I understood that only the first swallow was my fault. If he couldn’t tell after one swallow that it wasn’t chocolate milk, it was his own fault he got sick!
I also convinced him that the reason Dr. Pepper was so named is because you’re supposed to put pepper in it before you drink it.
I also told him what a nut-cracker was really for! (This is the one I’m the most ashamed of!!!) :o
I shared a room with my younger brother. He always laid out his school clothes for the next day before he went to bed so he could just get up and put em on. I used to do stuff like put two different colored socks, two different shoes in place of what he had out put a plaid shirt with striped pants, etc. when he went to sleep. He’d put em on and go into the kitchen for breakfast dressed that way.
Also, you could tell him stuff when he was sound asleep. I’d tell him at 4am that it was time to get up, Mom said breakfast is ready. And he, mostly asleep, would get dressed and go into the kitchen and sit down at the table. Mom would find him in there a couple of hours later sound asleep at the table.
He also thought “shut up” meant you were calling him names. I’d day shut up and he’d cry “Mom, Swamp called me shutup!”
These are some of the most inventive pranks I’ve ever seen! The one about sending the brother to the “new job” is pure genius. My ex put dead bees (my deathly fear) under the blanket on the bed and I discovered them when I went to crawl under the covers. Mayhem ensued.
I used to have a fat cat who loved scraps and a very ticklish sister…One evening at dinner, I “accidentally” dropped my fork, and whilst I was under the table picking it up, drizzled beef gravy on my sister’s (bare) feet. The cat immediately started lapping it up. I’m not sure who was more traumatised.
Then there was the time I locked her in the car (she was 7, I was 10). After watching her plead and cry for fifteen minutes, I pointed out that she could unlock it herself.
I also convinced her that she was adopted; and that we were actually a circus family; and that we were really bandits–if she pulled hard enough, the mask over her real face would come off and she’d have an eyehole-type mask on.
I convinced my sister that the red spheres on the potato plants were potato berries and that they were good to eat. They were potato bugs. She ate them all summer long. She never knew.
Not a sibling story, but my mom once backed into a tree in the parking lot of our church. That very day, on his way home from work, my dad stopped by the church and cut down the tree, pulled the stump, filled in the hole with gravel so it looked just like the rest of the parking lot.
When dad got home mom was crying about hitting the tree. Dad asked her what tree, and asked her to show him; they went to where the tree used to stand and my mother, already upset, burst into hysterics- “It was RIGHT HERE!” she kept screaming. We never told Mom until after dad died.
b.
And then there was the time my brother was trying to drop weight for wrestling. My best friend and I both bet him he couldn’t do it. Not wanting to take chances, we went all out to sabotage his progress.
We mailed him a $1.00 gift certificate to Burger Chef (yeah, most of you probably never been to one. Their called “Hardees” or “Carls Junior” now. And in those days $1 got you a hamburger, shake, and fries, plus 6 cents change!)
Then we went into his school locker, and put a dime bag of potato chips down the sleeve of his coat. This was a masterpiece plan! When he put his coat on, and pushed his arm through the sleeve, whalla: a bag of chips in his hand! Pure genius!
It didn’t work!
He won the bet and made the weight!..And got his ass kicked!
Should have stayed in his own weight class!
And we owed him 5 bucks each. A tidy sum for me in 1974!
My brother (seven years my senior) was a TV-aholic. He watched day and night. But, we didn’t have a remote. So, whenever he was being annoying, my sister and I would run in and turn off the TV. Mildly annoying the first time, terrible when we did it all day long.