I would sit on my little sister and dangle loogies over her face, and suck them back in at the moment of truth.

Course, a couple of time, gravity tricked me.

She always had claws though, and I was a nail biter, so I still have scars from her stratching the shit out of me. Mostly, we just rolled around on the floor hissing.

Wow. Suddenly dressing my little brothers up in girls' clothes ('cause I really wanted sisters instead) doesn't seem so awful.

I can remember very few physical fights with my sister. (Except for one time. She was lying on the floor with a beanbag chair on top of her head, because the sun was bothering her eyes and this was apparently a better solution than closing the shades. I walked in, didn't notice her, and sat on the chair. Every once in a while, out of nowhere, the "You sat on my head!" "You were lying with a chair on your head!" will just emerge out of nowhere.)

Today, I showed my students "Donald in Mathmagic Land." They thought it was dumb. I'm disappointed in the youth of America. (And a bit of the youth of South Korea, too, I guess -- two of my students are from there.)

All I ever did was stab my sister with a fork.

Of course, the fork still had dog food on it, so that was kind of a bonus.

ION, I HAVE A PIRATE SHIP, and Nora completely rocks.

I now realise that I was a fantastic sister.

The only bad thing I did, really, was convince her that there was a monster under the bed. (And I may have added veracity by, er, hiding under the bed and waiting until she stepped sleepily out of it, and then grabbing her ankle and biting it while she screamed and flailed and screamed and screamed and screamed. A few times. Maybe. Which STILL amuses me so much that I'm actually weeping with laughter as I type, and making odd snorfling noises. And yet I maintain that that kind of torture is GOOD, because it was bringing a little magic into her life. Scary, creepy, dark magic, but magic nonetheless. It was like the flip side of pretending there was a Santa.)

Thanks Ailleann and Toddson. That was exactly what I was looking for!

There was no physical violence between my siblings and me. Of course, they were 12 and 14 years older, so that may have impacted things. There was some violence between my step-sister and me. I always felt horrible about it, but I see now that it was really pretty mild. Whew.

You people are all making me VERY VERY GLAD that I'm an only child.

(And I may have added veracity by, er, hiding under the bed and waiting until she stepped sleepily out of it, and then grabbing her ankle and biting it while she screamed and flailed and screamed and screamed and screamed. A few times. Maybe. Which STILL amuses me so much that I'm actually weeping with laughter as I type, and making odd snorfling noises.

snogs Fay

I did the same thing to my sister. I even ripped the gauze off of her box spring so I could pull myself into it if she looked under the bed.

The only bad thing I did, really, was convince her that there was a monster under the bed. (And I may have added veracity by, er, hiding under the bed and waiting until she stepped sleepily out of it, and then grabbing her ankle and biting it while she screamed and flailed and screamed and screamed and screamed.

My sister did that to my brother when he was about 8. I was babysitting and had to calm him down while stifling snorts.

I'm off for a hair cut!