I was...
By all accounts a bit of a twat as an older brother. At approximately age 5, and with a brother of about 18 months who I wasn't best keen on, we'd go, with the still present Dad and Mum, to his parents; Nana Cissy and Grandpa Tommy.

Nana Cissy was grand, if memory serves. She had a bottle of advocaat in her bedroom which I'd go and have a tot of, every time I visited. She also had a copy of Bram Stoker's Dracula, which I also read a few pages of. She'd also always, in the kitchenette, have some fairy cakes and iced fancies on a doily which would be doled out close to the end of the visit.

Now, when the brother hit about 18 months, and was belatedly taking his first steps; he, being a little bugger in and of himself, used to get his hands everywhere and not only that, used to get all of the attention.

So I concocted a viable plan. I nicked a number of the fairy cakes and iced fancies, took tiny bites out of them, and then hid them in Nana Cissy's bed.

When they were found, the brother got a jolly good slap around the back of his legs, as the bites were too small for me.

Result. Nowadays I could take on Gil Grissom and win...
(Chickenwire social lubricator extraordinaire, Sun 13 Jul 2008, 9:10, Reply)