Until the age of 11...
I was the smallest kid in the class by a long way. So of course I was bottom of the pecking order.

Until the summer of 1989. There's a certain satisfaction in coming back from the summer holidays nearly a foot taller than when you left. (And that's no exaggeration - I finished in July 89 at 4'5" and came back in September at 5'4".)

I then made it my mission to locate every single kid in the school who had been giving me grief for the last 2 years and give them a damned good pasting.

Although what finally put a stop to people having a go at me was the afternoon I was sat drinking a nice cup of hot chocolate when some little shite-bag from my year came up behind me and smacked the bottom of the cup, spraying hot liquid over my face. (Hot enough to hurt but not to cause permanent damage fortunately.) At age 11-12 and with little or no self control learnt yet I chased the little scroat down the corridor, caught up with him, slammed him down on the floor, grabbed his hair (this was late 80s-early 90s and skinheads hadn't come in yet) and repeatedly smashed his head into the concrete floor.

Got about a dozen blows in before 3 teachers (and it took 3!) dragged me off him.

The kid spent a night in A&E with concussion. But I never had any problems again at that school.
(RabidRodent I'm the person your mother warned you about, Wed 13 May 2009, 21:37, Reply)