The dancing Santa Head thread revived!
Thanks,
Ahhhh those were days. You kids, hitting each other with hammers and wipeing your bums on your sisters’s pillowcase are amatures. I had to walk a mile every day before the sun came to play on my sibling’s weaknesses.
I remember my dad telling me about the pinecone wars that he and his four siblings would have in the yard at my grandma’s house. Spikey missiles whipped right at your noggin by those who know you best.
Yikes.
Yes, it was I who threw that rock. :rolleyes:
My Older Sister: Always self concious about her weight. She’s not fat in the least bit, she’s a very beautiful girl, but of course, I can’t tell her that.
Her: You’re a nerd.
Me: You’re fat.
Her: You’re retarded.
Me: You’re the reason children are starving in Africa.
Her: …
Me: Honestly, I’m shocked you can fit through the door. You wouldn’t have to eat for two months and you’d still be fat. But I do envy you. In the next ice age, people like me will be dead. You, on the other hand, will be in shorts and a tank top looking for ice cream.
My younger brother: Didn’t do anything really “mean” to him. We fought. We fought a lot. It’s only 2 years younger than me, and he’s bigger than me. I just used to lie to him, all the time.
Me: Yeah, you know that Ragitty Anne doll? It’s going to come alive and kill you. No, I’m serious. The other night I came into the garage and I saw it walking around with a knife. It scared the heck out of me.
-At the store: Damnit Cory, you ruin everything, just like you ruined our parents lives. (My mom hit me for that one).
Me: You’re adopted. If you weren’t, then why doesn’t Mom have any pictures of when she was pregnant with you?
I’d also introduce him to my friends as my adopted brother. It turns out that he was actually my half brother.
I am going to do the “your picture is next to stupid” thing to my youngest brother.
When I was about 6 years old, my older brother told me that when I’m in the bathroom, government agents are going to kidnap and murder me. I was scared to go to the bathroom for nearly a month.
Just remembered one I did this summer to my sister.
My parents had started doing up the bathroom whilst I was away at university. The job was still going on when I came home. Small black centipedes kept coming in through a gap in the window frame, dropping into the bathtub and, unable to get out, they died. My sister has recently become very afraid of insects (it didn’t bother her at all a few years ago), and she absolutely hates the centipedes. Anyway, one day I got a small piece of black wool and cupped it in my hand like I was holding one of the dead centipedes in there. I walked into my sister’s room, and threw the piece of wool at her from a small distance away. My mum was stood next to my sister when I did it. You should have seen the reaction, I couldn’t breathe, I was crying with laughter. The wool had gone down my sister’s top, she was doing this stupid dancing thing on her tiptoes, trying to shake it out, screaming her head off, my mum was batting down my sister’s clothes trying to shake whatever it was out all the while shouting at me.
Oh my God, I nearly killed myself laughing. My stomach hurt for days after that.
Thanks! It made me laugh too.
I never did anything mean to my brother. He’s five years older than me, and got all the mean genes in the family.
I’m told that I once hit him over the head with a golf club, but it was back before I had memories. 
Mom is willing to admit, however, that there were extenuating circumstances–earlier that day, he’d stuck my finger into a car cigarette lighter “to see if it was hot.”
Speaking of accidents,
my older sister had the bad habit of grabbing me by the forearm and digging her fingernails into me when she was angry.
To get her back once I grabbed one of those cheapo pencil compasses where you snap the pencil into it. I intended to use the non-pointy side to scrape her arm.
Accidently “did” have the pointy side out and ended up stabbing her in the arm.
Nobody believed my explanation. She ended up having to have a tetnis shot.
Of course, there was a time when we depantsed my brother.
Oh, did I say he was sleeping downstairs on the livingroom couch at the time.
I accidentally killed my older brother’s 4-H pig by spraying it with ice cold well water on a searing hot, Hoosier summer day. Boy, was HE pissed! :eek:
In my defense, the pig looked hot…and he was SO DIRTY! :dubious:
He got back at me…I have 3 brothers and 3 sisters. We were all sitting in the living room one night, and my brother (the dead pig brother) came in and told us to watch him do something really cool.
He proceeded to take a razorblade and slice open every fingertip on both hands. He told us it didn’t even hurt. He told us to try it! So, being stupid as we were, we all tried it. Amazingly, it DIDN’T hurt. Not at all. We ALL sliced the razorblade through each finger and thumb on each hand. We thought that was cool beans…at least for awhile.
About 10 minutes later, the stinging set in. There were 7 VERY unhappy kids. I think we all got beat that night. He got a whippin’ because he started it, and we all got a whippin’ because we were stupid enough to do it. 
There was not nearly enough bandaids to go around that night.
Me: 7
Brother: 5
Sister: 2
One day, my brother and I wanted to play, but our little sister kept bugging us. She was so annoying, didn’t get our games, just knocked over our toys and messed up our setups. I really needed her out of the way, and since I was a precocious little brat, I had just figured out how to lock a door from the inside before shutting the door. Now, I wasn’t allowed to lock my mom out of my own room, but could I lock my sister into hers?
You betcha. I pushed in the lock button, told sis to get inside her room, then locked her in. I figured that when we wanted to let her out, all we had to do was let her know that she just needed to turn the doorknob and push.
It worked fine and dandy for a few minutes. She was totally out of our hair. Mybrother (rightly) thought I was a genius. When sis started crying, before she could alert our mom (Dad was at work), I went to the door and told her how to open it. Of course, she was only two, and this presented a problem. She didn’t understand well enough to figure it out on her own and just kept wailing. Mom heard that. Oh, crap.
Mom was pissed. Not only was sis locked inside, but the only other way to gain access to the room was through a second-story window. Mom tried using tools to take the doorknob off but was unsuccessful. She knew what she had to do.
My mother, afraid of heights and afflicted with bad vertigo, got the expandable ladder from the garage, climbed it, opened the window, and entered my sister’s room. She unlocked the door, let my sister out, and cried her eyes out. I was never punished, and sis doesn’t remember, but man, was I a little brat!
I used to routinely walk into the bathroom when my brother was showering and flush the toilet when I was mad at him. (This makes the water run really really hot, especially when you have a pump.) I had lots of knock-down dragouts with him and my sister (which never ended well because I’m 8 years younger than her and 6 years younger than him) so the warfare became mainly psychological.
Their fights with each other were classic, though. My favorite was when my father promised me a Geronimo “if you can either get that @#%ing baseball bat away from David or that $(Y&ed bullwhip away from Kathi!” Neither would disarm until the other did, and while we weren’t sure that David would use the baseball bat we knew damned good and well Kathi would use the bullwhip if he came in striking distance, and she totally knew how to use it. When she went to the bathroom I snuck up, opened the door, grabbed the tongue of the whip and pulled. She flushed and came out cussing but David agreed to detente and I got Geronimo. It was a win-win-flush.
I should mention the meanest thing they ever did to me, though: When I was a little spoiled brat elementary student, 1st grade or so (I started first grade at 5 so I was a bit younger than average), they had me absolutely convinced that we had another brother, Steve Jr., who my parents had taken away in the car one day and who was never seen again “all because they made Mama and Daddy mad, just like you’re doing”. I was told to “never mention him to Mama and Daddy because that makes them madder than anything.”
I finally one day asked my mother about Steve Jr… She tried to spank my siblings but she was laughing to hard and commuted the sentence on grounds of cleverness.
My sister is still mad because I burned one of her original vintage Barbie dolls at the stake (the stake being an iron staff from an old house jack that I’d plunged into the ground). It took one hell of a long time and it ruined the stake (the plastic melted all over it) but damn she burned up good (and more importantly, her soul was purified and gained entrance to heaven). I tarred and feathered Ken with a glue gun and chicken feathers and cut Barbie’s hair, and that p.o.d her a bit also, but she was the one who had given me the dolls. My mother was just glad that I did it because it proved I was straight as gay boys would have played with the dolls (?).
I could write a book about all the stuff my brother (6+ years older) did to me.
But one thing I did to him that probably still pisses him off to this day was to
“c-block” him big time (before that term existed!)
My parents were out so my brother had to watch me. However he invited this hot girl over to “watch TV”. We only had one TV set then. The three of us were watching Hogan’s Heroes (so this must have been a Saturday night). My brother is trying to make moves on her. I guess I sort of knew what was going on (I was probably 10). He would lock eyes with me and tilt his head in a manner suggesting “leave the room”. I just smiled and shook my head no. After several attempts he finally outright asked me to go to my room. I acted all coy (wrapped in a blanket on the floor) and said something like “Gee I really want to see the show and there’s no set upstairs…”. The girl says something like, “oh he’s so cute, let him stay…” No nooky that night!
Oh, lord! The things I did to my little brother! Where to start?
The cruel:
My brother had asthma as a kid. He also would follow my friends and me whenever we went out on our boyhood adventures. My tactic for getting rid of him was to pound on his back until he couldn’t breathe! Then we would walk off, leaving him gasping for breath curled up on the ground.
The funny: He was easily scared.
I hid in the doghouse. He came out to play with the dog and bent over to look for him in the doghouse. I came charging out, barking and snapping.
He freaked, wet himself, and I got spanked.
Playing hide-n-seek outside, he was “it”. I hid in a tree. He passed be underneath but never looked up, so I dropped out of the tree directly behind him, screaming! He freaked, wet himself, and I got spanked.
We sharded a room. He was afraid of monsters in the closet. I opened the closet, then woke him up. “The closet’s open! There must be a monster!” He begged me to close it, so I got up and slowly approached the closet. At the door, I screamed and jumped into the closet as if I had been grabbed by a monster. He freaked, wet the bed, and I got spanked.
I could even tell him what I was doing and still scare him. I would announce, “I am getting under the sheet. It’s just me under the sheet.”, as I crawled under the sheet on the bed. “I am standing up now. It’s just me, it’s not a ghost! BOOO!” He freaked, wet the bed, and I got spanked.
I’m the baby of the family. 2 brothers, 8 and 10 years older. I didn’t get to do much to them until I was big enough to beat them up, but by that time, they were in college.
But the next older brother was a master psychological torturer. Whenever we’d throw ball to each other, he’d throw super fast. If I dropped it, he’d pucker his lips and make this whimpering chimp sound that would get me mad and make me throw harder.
He found out I was afraid of his GI Joe dolls. I used to watch Saturday morning cartoons upstairs in the den and keep the door closed. One time I heard this squeaky voice from the door say EWIIIIIIIC…COME TO THE DOOR EWIIIIC…So I opened the door and saw the GI Joe doll standing there in a pool of blood with a plastic knife in his hand. I’M GONNA KIWWW YOU EWIIIIIC… I slammed the door and didn’t come out for hours.
Another time he called me into his room and said “Look, they’re going to kill GI Joe!” He had made this miniature gallows that stood about 3 feet tall. He had GI Joe with his hands tied behind his back. He had another doll with a little black hood on his head. He marched both dolls up the steps of the gallows where a hangman’s noose made out of twine waited. He then pulled the noose over GI Joe’s head and knocked him off the scaffolding, so GI Joe just hung and dangled there like a fish on a hook.
And that’s how I came out to be the sane, well-adjusted person you see today!
I got mad at my cousin and told her that the man she and her brothers thought was their father was not actually their father.
It was true. Everybody knew it except them.
My best friend had an older brother (in college then) who was so mean we called him “The Grinch”.
The Grinch once hung my friend by his foot from a tree in the front yard and walked away, leaving his little brother hanging upside down, screaming and waving his arms as he slowly spun. His mother came to the kitchen window, smiled and waved, and turned away - she thought he was playing - oblivious to the fact that traffic on the street in front of the house was slowing as drivers gawked.
Years later, we were sailing with The Grinch out of Dana Point, California. We were many miles offshore when a pod of Gray Whales came by. After"oohing and ahhing", Grinchie asked his brother to retrieve the paint scaper from the tool box. Brother got the paint scraper and started to hand it to Grinch. Grinch said, “See those barnacles on the whales? They look mighty uncomfortable. Why don’t you help them out and scrape them off?” Then, quick as a flash, he grabbed his brother by the shirt and pants and heaved him overboard! He blithely sat back down at the tiller and sailed on, leaving his brother splashing in the Pacific with the whales (and leaving me wondering what sort of madman I was trapped with on a small boat!). We eventually worked our way on back and picked him up, whereupon Grinch cussed him out for losing the paint scraper!