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Not me but an ex-girlfriend, as kids she convinced her younger sister that if you bruised yourself you could squeeze the pain out.
Thats inspired.
I'm going to try it on my nephews.
I waved a cricket bat at my big sister she had the threat coming. Back fired when she started shouting i'd hit her over the head with it and my gran came round the corner to find my holding it looking a bit surprised!
My parents were out, and myself, my two brothers, and a cousin were left at home.
My younger brother was kicking off about something, and threatened us with his bow and arrow (a small, learner set that could have done some damage). In response, we tied him to the downstairs railing to "calm him down", while pouring cold water on his head.
Oh what fun we had! Psychos.
Oh yeah. The same brother was chasing me down the hall to my room. I got there first and slammed my door closed. Only his finger was in it.
A trip to the hospital for him with my mum holding the end of the finger in place, taught me just how big an idiot I could be.
^^^
ah the 70s, when you could make you own gunpowder (salpitre from the butchers) and explode the heads of younger siblings.
Yeah or the gardening shop ... where you could also get potassium chlorate
My parents let my brother and his friends babysit me. They let me go to bed at the normal time and were also very nice to me. I should’ve known something was awry at this stage.
I woke up later unable to breathe with one of my brothers friends pinning me down. They proceeded to roll me up in my mattress, carried me downstairs and in to the garden. They then hung me up inside the mattress and proceeded to use it as a punching bag.
On a separate occasion I broke a light fitting whilst performing a trick with a yo-yo. My brother asked me to show him exactly where the fitting was broken. Like a fool I fell for this and placed my finger on the damaged part. At this point he turned the light-switch on electrocuting me.
There’s more, I could literally fill a book with this shit. I thought it was entirely normal. I’ve since learned this might not be the case. I had revenge plenty of times too. Basically it was like being in Jack Ass years before it existed. The phrase “Tell mum and your dead” is a staple from my childhood.
Yeah, lost my brother in 1971.During the holidays my mum made me take my 5 year old brother, who was 4 years younger, along with me and my older pals when we were playing out.We took him to the woods played hide and seek and all ran off while he was counting to one hundred.
TBF after the initial grief had passed I enjoyed having the bedroom all to myself until I left home.
WTF? 😲 🤯 😲
We used to play a game called 'meth ball'
It involved soaking cotton balls in meths or any other flammable liquid we could find, and kicking or throwing them at each other.
Also, a game called shoot the target. One had a .22 air rifle, the other had a small wooden board to deflect the pellets.
How we didn't blind each other or get bad burns.. I'll never know.
Also.. Wtf nick?? Sounds almost like a movie plot..
🙂 Sorry.The police found him several hours later and brought him home alive and well.
My torture was more psychological, when I was about 7/8/9 my two older sisters would tell me how the devil was coming for me and I wouldn’t be able to escape, even in death ( this was not long after the exorcist came out) I was a giberring wreck, wouldn’t sleep in my room etc.
One day in school my teacher asked what superstitions we knew, I piped up ‘if you look into the mirror too long you’ll see the devil!’
The teacher’s jaw dropped, she looked at me aghast and quickly changed the topic!
I’d love to have heard what she’d said in the staff room afterwards!
Anyway, better go, got a black mass to attend😳
Big sisters eh? Mine was riding my bike and demanded I get on the handlebars.
"But I don't want...".
"Get on the handlebars".
"Er OK".
She then barrelled into the garden wall and I hurtled through the privet hedge with the arse of my trousers attached to the lamp bracket.
Mum wasn't impressed.
For a boy, big sisters are the worse- they pick on you and you can’t retaliate cos they’re girls. And they can’t thump the class bully that’s picking on you like an older brother can.
alledgedly (force)fed younger brother grass clippings while mate held him down. It was one of those scruffy patches of grass mown by the council every 2 weeks after locals had emptied there dogs
He hasnt forgotten it!! prob about 45 yr ago now got to let them know whose boss right?
gave older cousin an old bike tyre to use as hula hoop ...it was full of ants genuinly not deliberate that one painting her with green gloss was a bit more deliberate oh how we laughed:))
Youngest sister hit me over the back of my half with a cricket bat when I would give her the ball. She was too young to know, but I staggered into the house and passed out.
Other sister had to suffer 47 years of being my Irish twin. As the sister of the school ginger geek, that was pain enough.
My younger sister annoyed me one day and when I saw her ride past me on her bike later that day I lobbed a stick at her. It landed perfectly between the spokes and jammed in behind the fork causing her to fly over the handlebars. I can still see it happen now, it seemed to happen in slow motion. She ran off to my dad and I was mortified.
Luckily my dad was busy in his workshop with big ear protectors on sawing some wood and just waved her away. This upset my sister even more. I was delighted.
I also taped her favourite doll upside down to her wardrobe. She was horrified when I told her the devil did it.
Mum was not impressed.
This thread reminds me of the time we were staying in a holiday home one summer.
We found a croquet set in the garden shed and were messing about with it one hot, sunny afternoon. My dad was lying on his back on the grass and my brother was doing a 'pretend' swing of the croquet mallet at my dad's unmentionables - a sort of slow-mo over-the-head swing, stopping just short of actually hitting him. Anyway, he decided to up his game and speed it up a bit, but somehow messed up the forces/timing and instead did a full-force over-the-head swing of a croquet mallet into my dad's nads.
I still wince when I think about it now, the pain must have been horrific.
Not so much what i did to my sister, but what she did to Mr Bennett the builder.
It was the hot summer of 77, Elvis had just died, and we were having an extension built. And when the house is in turmoil, all you need is for an Aunt and two cousins (both boys) to leave an abusive husband and move 300 miles from Newcastle to live with us. We kids were OK, we lived in tents in the garden, my Aunt was absent on valium, and my Mum held it all together including PM'ing a building site as well.
As kids we were feral - me and my oldest cousin were 7, the younger ones including my sister were 3. And what better thing to occupy us than spud guns (it was the 70's, if you weren't tooled up you weren't a proper kid)
These rarely actually shot any spud out despite making a good sound from those rolls of paper caps. Occasionally they did though, as was the case on this day when my sister shot Mr Bennett on his bare back from close range. He lost it big time, and was going to kill one of us, until he saw a barely three year old, sopping wet nappy down to her knees holding the gun....but she looked terrified anyway.
A bit like the firing squad where one man has a blank so you never really know......we're still not sure if it was me or her that actually shot him.
I'm not going into the bad things done. But some sort of thread context for our younger readers may help....
Born in the 60's, by the start of the next decade we were utterly feral. Moms would generally be at home all day, doing whatever (or whoever - always a strange uncle around!) they did. They did not want us in, so at 9am during school holidays we were pushed out the door, not to return for a good 8 hours. I can remember being in a gang at 3 years old, and by 5 years old knew all the rough ground, abandoned buildings or climb spots within a mile radius. There were hardly any cars about, so the streets were the playground. It was neither good or bad - it just was what everyone did back then.
Growing up we were generally unsupervised to a degree most would find alarming now.
Youngest of 3 brothers(2 and 4yrs older than me), they used to use me as step to jump onto the sofa when I was a baby.
Then when I was a bit older we used to have a Calor Gas heater on the landing, so after sharing a bath we used to stand by it to dry off, regular had burns on my bum cheeks or hip by being pushed into it (the vents at the top where the perfect height for this).
In our teens they shot me in the arse from about 1m away with a pellet gun.
Remember gardening with my older brother when we were very little, he had the trowel and I had a hand fork he kept mithering for it so I hit him over the head with it, he had to go to hospital and have stitches (serves him right for the above though).
No snowflakes when we were growing up.
Hmm lets see
Shot with a pretend arrow, a rusty nail on a stick, still have scar, missed my eye by inches, mum was furious!
Pulled off my scooter, gouged my knee still have scar.
Stole my brothers grifter was pulled off and hit my hip, now have no feeling to my right thigh.
Done to myself, mum didnt want me playing with the boys so was confined to our back garden where we had a swing, so I stood on the swing seat but instead of putting my hands above my head on the chain I put them down by my sides and tipped forward, I fell to the ground and the swing seat flow around and hit me on the head, causing a vast amount of bleeding coz head wound, however, it was bank holiday so had to get neighbour to bring us to hospital as we only had the one car and dad was working, also white blond hair and blood is awesome looking, still have scar as I had a cyst removed and they questioned me on it.
I should point out its only my brother and I and I'm older by 2 years. I also grew up in the 70s in Northern Ireland so quite frankly I'm amazed I'm still alive.
My mate said "I'll give you ten. One, two, three..." His Diana SP50 was pointing at ME. I turned and ran. "TEN." A .177 Marksman pellet whacked into my back just below my left kidney. Christ it stung like a bastard. Within a couple of hours I had a massive bruise around the point of impact. Not easy to hide from your parents when you're ten years old.
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Bloody hell you or your siblings are all monsters!
My elder brother persuaded me to flood the bathroom. Because I’m stupid, I didn’t catch on because the next year he convinced me to set fire to the lounge carpet 🙂
We had a coal cellar in the house I was born in. Guess which of the three brothers got locked in there in the dark when parents weren’t around. Uh hun, me the youngest one.
My own kids have form as well. Elder one punted the younger one off a slide ending in a broken arm. Claimed innocence but I saw a hint of my older brother in his eye 🙂
I grew up in the countryside and one thing that still makes me laugh today is the time I managed to flick a nice round fresh bit of horse poo into my sister's mouth with a bamboo cane I'd stolen from the garden shed. It was perfect and made me cry with laughter. It just made her cry.
I knew a set of twin boys who were always fighting and generally hateing each other. Years later one confessed to regularly putting the licorice from the Sherbert Dip up his bum before giving it to his brother.
Snap. I spent an enjoyable summer saturday morning watching my dad paint the garage door blue. He went off for a fag or brew leaving the paint and brush out. My new baby sister was lying on the lawn in a travel cot a short distance away and I thought it would be great idea to to paint her face blue.
Lots of memories of long hot school summer holidays when we were pretty much left to out own devices to provide our own entertainment. On a variation of the knife / dart games, my parents in their wisdom had given me a .177 air pistol for my 9th birthday. This fired both .177 lead pellets and coloured feathered darts. I got my brother to stand half naked against the welsh dresser whilst I fired darts at him with the aim of just missing him, like in the circus knife throwing acts. Foolishly he agreed, trusting my marksmanship. With my first shot I was aiming just above his shoulder, but fired a dart square into his shoulder blade.
on another occasion. We were lucky to have a few large mature trees in our garden which we both enjoyed climbing. A particular favorite was a grand old beech tree which had a sturdy over hanging limb about 15 - 20 feet of the ground. My brother climbed up with a rope, with the idea that I would gently lower him to the ground with the rope. As I took his weight on the rope, i couldn't hold it and the rope started slipping burning my hands, so i let go.
Not my brother but MY DAD broke my collar bone when I was young. He thought it would be a good wheeze to jump on one end of our makeshift see-saw with me stood on the other to shoot me up in the air a bit. Inevitable result happened inevitably.
That Diana SP50 was the exact same one I had. Oh, the memories! I've still got it somewhere. Im 52 now.
On holiday in France in a static caravan, me and younger brother were sneaking out to explore one evening. We were escaping through one of the windows, I was out first but brother as he clambers out says "I'm stuck", so being helpful and impatient (and not wanting to be caught by Mother) grabbed his legs and yanked. Trouble was the window catch was stuck in his back. The whole campsite heard his scream as the catch ripped up his back.
Also younger brother and I were on dish washing duties and he had once again got the cushty washing job leaving me to dry and put away. Told him that the kettle needed cleaning so he'd better put some washing up liquid in it and boil it. 2 minutes later boiling hot foam is ejected all over the kitchen.....Mother runs in hearing the commotion at which point I dob him in.
Perfume in the face and mallet in the nuts 🤣
I used to resent my step brother. We get along fine now we are all grown up.
My dad worked away a lot and my step mum doted on him obviously, her only child.
He had his own special juice drink in litre cartons. Just for him.
Everytime a new carton was opened I would add a splash of pee into it.
Did this for about two years.
Sorry Al.
I could keep reading the thread as long as people keep contributing - it's brilliant!
Although I must have had a sheltered childhood. Can't think of agro between me and my 2yrs older sister. Except when she (big Blur fan) pulled out all the tape of my What's the Story Morning Glory cassette and denied all knowledge of it. She still denies is now, but I know she did it.
Nope no grief with my younger bro and late sis. I’m pretty sure they feel the same.
I hate her daughters though and haven’t had any dealings with them since my mothers death.
We have a holiday home in a village called Shaldon, right on the mouth of the River Teign. Many years ago when I was five-and-a-bit, my brother was twoish. During a typical British summer, we were enjoying fish and chips on the beach in the freezing cold and pouring rain. Being the 80s we were both wearing those big one-piece puffer suits with hoods. Stood in the sand, right by the edge of the river with my little brother, for no specific reason I can remember, I casually tipped him into the water. Must have stood there eating chips for ten or fifteen seconds, watching him bob out to sea before my mum screamed and my dad came running down the beach and plunged into the river like David Hasselhoff in Baywatch. Every year, we go down there with our own kids and I get reminded of the time I pushed my brother into the sea 😂
my big sis and I fought a lot as kids. I have a bit of pencil lead n the side of my nose where she stabbed me with a pencil but I got my own back - in the car she was beating a rhythm out on the seat between us - I put a pencil there point upwards.
I can also remember her pouring washing up liquid in my hair - washing up was always a flashpoint
In the car going up the M6
I feel more sick
No, I feel more sick
No, I feel more sick
No, I feel more sick
No, I feel more sick
VOMIT
I should probably feel more sorry for my parents on that one.
My GF put her brothers head through a glazed door, and managed to get him in trouble for it. Unsurprisingly she's not one to ever apologize (not even in that polite English way of just apologizing for everything).
Made a big drag chute out of bin liners, duct tape, and string. Convinced younger brother to sit on back of bmx and on 'go' deploy chute to slow us down, half way down hill and at full tilt I shouted 'go', no slowing down of bike but brother disappeared backward very quickly. He slowed down with assistance of chute and tarmac, well before helmets were worn.
Another one , not strictly caused by siblings but certainly they took a part in,
Near our childhood home was a steep slope that bottomed out onto a railway embankment.
In the 70's these were always fenced off with a fence that pretty much consisted of concrete posts with 3 wires or so piercing them top, middle and bottom.
In winter we used to go sledging on said slope, so after a big push by one of said brothers I went careering down the hill and under the bottom wire of the fence getting clothes lined in the process.
For several days afterwards I looked like I had been garroted.
Not brother but best mate, I know it doesn’t count for his thread, but anyway...he was in his house one winter evening and I was throwing snowballs at his bedroom window, as you do, just to bug him. He pulled out his air pistol (that I lent him money to buy and he never paid me back, the git!) and shot me right dead centre in the eye. Luckily I had my new glasses on. The lens basically shattered with a wee hole in the centre where the pellet hit. It must have just stopped the pellet because my eye was fine. Took me a minute to work out what had happened. He went very pale when he realised what hat happened. Apparently he was aiming at my legs...hmmm. His mum was not very happy with him when she came out to see what was going on. My mum wasn’t particularly pleased when I had to explain why I needed new glasses. That was then end of us shooting each other...for a while at least.
The one for myself or inflicted on me..
Climbing a tree...dont know what type..it had 2/3 good trunks the other branches were got and miss..we all got to the top..I was the last to come down..someone broke 3 branches in a row so I stretched to the next one and it gave way dropping my THROUGH the trees branches missing the largest trunk but 1/2 inch and to note it would have hit between my legs if it did..still hurt hitting the ground..
Inflicted on others ..my brother was trying to show of on those stilt srung boots and I had used them and the spring weight was wrong(couldn't preloaded it as to light) and tried to run up a curb from asphalt to concrete(northeast on them) misjudged the speed reduction, one foot spring hits curb second makes it but projects him chin first onto the ground looking rather stupid..hehe..could not stop laughing..
I am the eldest of four... so I have plenty of stories, but I don't think I came off the worst in many of them 🙂
I was 5, my sister 4. Me riding my 16" wheel Universal BMX, and my sister tries to 'shut me out' by pushing closed 5' high heavy oak gates... I purposefully just ram the gate, which rebounded straight into her forehead. Huge egg.
Next year we had builders in to convert the garage, and we had fun throwing old roof tiles up the roof so that they'd bounce back down and smash on the floor. Obviously one landed on my sister's head. Lots of blood.
When my youngest brother was about 7 years old, I jumped out to scare him, and he turned around and dropped to the floor... but just smashed his face into a chair. Two black eyes.
We lived in a Bungalow, so weren't very used to stairs in a home. Whilst visiting my grand parents my two brothers were fighting upstairs, and my middle brother threw youngest brother down the stairs. Cut head and plenty of stitches. An impressive scar 20 years later.
On the previous trip to grandparents we stopped on route near a river for a picnic, and were having fun throwing stones in the river. Middle bother threw a big rock at our youngest brother, which gave him a black eye for the whole holiday.
We used to play a game 'aeroplane', where dad would lie on his back hold us in the air on his feet. Once I got big enough I would do it to my two brothers, but inevitably we got a bit carried away, including running starts and more effect to propel. This culminated in middle brother properly flying across the room, into the wardrobe and splat to the floor. Broken wrist.
I went through a phase at about 10 years old of playing football in the house, and the sofa was the 'goal'. Behind the sofa was a window. Ball hit the carriage clock on the window sill, which went through the window.
But by far the worst of it was that me and my youngest brother used to quite mercilessly pick on my middle brother. During one fight I purposefully took his head and rubbed his face on the floor to give him a carpet burn on his cheek. I hope my bullying hasn't done any long term damage, he's grown up fit and successful, and I hope he knows how bad I feel about it.
His only external 'scar' is a discolored patch on his forehead where as a toddler he fell asleep in the sun whilst wearing a lifejacket, and a triangular reflective patch intensified the sun and burnt him so badly that it blistered. The brown triangle mark is quite well defined after he has spent some time in the sun 🙂
We used to have a wood planing tool on a shelf above a (double height) archway in our hall, within reach of the stairs. Essentially a solid bit of hardwood with a heavy blade set into it. Must’ve weighted 10kg. Anyway one day I’m stood just outside the arch when I feel something fall directly behind me, barely touching me, and making a racket and mess of the tiled floor as it landed. I look up to see my sister, suspiciously close to the scene of the crime, but protesting her innocence. If I’d been 8inches further back, I suspect my skull would be in more pieces than standard, and have all the associated problems...
My sister and I talked our little brother into pooing down a slide in the play park near our house. My Dad caught him mid-poo as he’d come to get us for tea. Me and sis sat on the sofa listening to little brother getting spanked upstairs wondering if he’d grass. Fair play to the little fella who held out.