A mate started me on this...
The idea is, every time someone ends a sentence with the word "What" you respond with "Bollocks, gotcha"* - great game for the pub, muttering something under your breath so someone says "What?".

Trouble is, I can't switch it off now...

* Actually, the full response was a bit longer - "bollocks, gotcha, Heaven is the back seat of my Cadillac - let me take you there. *lick finger, touch arse* psssst...shit hot."
( snee held his breath since, Fri 21 Nov 2008, 10:57, 2 replies)

Euphemisms for human waste
I'm pretty sure "wee" is one of the most common childhood alternatives for number ones, but did anybody else grow up calling number twos "bombs"?
(Vice Admiral Sir Charles Cockbrush KCB MBE DSO, who is finding it increasingly difficult to log into b3ta.com wants to duck your aunt and kick your puppy, Fri 21 Nov 2008, 10:56, 7 replies)

At bedtime
Parental: "Nighty nighty"
Pod: "Pajama Pajama"
( Peapod Has returned to the fold on, Fri 21 Nov 2008, 10:52, 2 replies)

Two specifically related to car journeys
The first is that we'd all pretend my brother being constantly travel-sick didn't bother us, that the smell was that of spring flowers and the sounds just another of the car's audible eccentricities. Three brothers in the back, two constantly competing to be the one sat furthest away from Mr Puke.

The second... we would again pretend that our parent's constant bickering about directions, maps, destinations and other meaningless shite didn't make us all want to throw up anyway.
( Noeli overtheshoulderboulderholderthingstraplatchboobs, Fri 21 Nov 2008, 10:51, Reply)

Long car journeys
When I was a nipper, and had to endure epic voyages such as South Wales to Oxfordshire in the back of my parents' car, we didn't have such fanciness as in-car DVD players, and we weren't given bags of sweets to trough on. Instead, when one of us asked if we could have a sweet, we would be told we could have one after passing under a particular number of bridges, so would spend the next twenty minutes with faces pressed to the window eagerly waiting for the next blessed concrete span to hove into view. It might sound twee now, but it worked on us...
(Vice Admiral Sir Charles Cockbrush KCB MBE DSO, who is finding it increasingly difficult to log into b3ta.com wants to duck your aunt and kick your puppy, Fri 21 Nov 2008, 10:50, Reply)

Just remembered this although we don't do it so much now.
Me and my sister who both should know better at our age.

Whenever we hear the word transformer will shout, 'robots in disguise'.
( girlinthehole, Fri 21 Nov 2008, 10:50, 4 replies)

not too much salt
my German grandad always has his German bread with salted butter, and then sprinkles salt on it.
everyone else loves this also, but he guards this bread with his life.
on the off chance you get some, he always says "not too much salt"

we are a family of salt.. eaters..?
and so now anytime any of us is pouring salt, it always has to be said.

also random blackadder quotage is common place in mothers house
(Ginger_Prawn, Fri 21 Nov 2008, 10:46, 1 reply)

I don't think we've got any rituals at all.
Although my grandad used to watch TV with his little fingers in his nostrils.

But I don't think that counts, as it was just weird.
( scarpe We Stole Bikes, Fri 21 Nov 2008, 10:45, Reply)

As a child when driving towards this village that had a tunnel
my mum would start whispering...

Coffee, coffee, coffee
Cheese and biscuits ,Cheese and biscuits ,Cheese and biscuits, Prunes and custard, Prunes and custard, Prunes and custard, Beef and carrots, Beef and carrots, Beef and carrots, Beef and carrots, Beef and carrots, Beef and carrots, Beef and carrots, Beef and carrots, Beef and carrots, Beef and carrots,

Then as we went through the tunnel she'd shout

SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUP!

Now my wife looks at me like a nutter when I do the same thing.
( Peej, Fri 21 Nov 2008, 10:42, 4 replies)

Autobots Transform!!!!
My eldest son and I have a ritual of whoever gets up earliest on a weekday has to wake up the other one in a specific way. The person that wakes up first will put on the Optimus Prime voice changing mask, switch it on, grab the sonic screwdriver placed next to it and go into the bedroom of the sleeping victim.

I’ve lost every sodding day this week, but hearing Optimus Prime tell me to get out of bed usually makes a decent start to the day (The sonic screwdriver is used to shine it into the sleeping persons prised open eyes, and will only be used if the person still in bed hasn’t woken up after the mask makes the transforming sound).
(mon bison powered by magnets, Fri 21 Nov 2008, 10:38, 2 replies)

I grew up in a house with the rule that the cook doesn't clean.
When I got married my wife changed that to, the cook cleans up as they go along.

Lazy bitch hasn't cooked once in two years.
( Peej, Fri 21 Nov 2008, 10:36, 2 replies)

Bathtime
Leaving the bath water for the next person to use. Well I suppose it was the 70s, and our water was heated by an immersion, so hardly the most efficient method.

Usually there was enough hot left for a top up.

I never seemed to get first go though, I was always bathing in grime, whereas everyone else used to be able to manoeuvre a position to be able to use virgin water.

Perhaps it was because I am the youngest by some margin.

Perhaps it was because I used to regularly piss in it.
(Worthless wishes he had the brains of a pigeon, Fri 21 Nov 2008, 10:34, 1 reply)

You Son of a Mad Bog Irishman
I am the offspring of a mad bog Irishman and a quirky half Scottish posh home counties lady.

I don’t have the weeks necessary to relate the daily agonies I went through on the playground by calling things what they were called at home and have people laughing in my face, or doing things as I thought they should be done and have people herniate themselves with amusement until their collective sphincters went ‘hssssssssss’ as they voided themselves completely.

So I have made a brief and non-exhaustive summary.

-Urine and faeces were known respectively as ‘shhhh’ and ‘numbers’. I still don’t know why and my parents still use the terms. Much hilarity ensued at school when I first put my hand up and asked to go to have a ‘numbers’ and having to explain what it was so my at first perplexed and finally catatonic teacher. Teachers also shouting ‘shhhhh’to me if I was being loud…well…I got through lots of pants (and therapy).

-when we went to McDonalds (which was a massive treat if we were good) we all had to in order open our cheese burgers, take out the pickle, and reverently place it into my fathers burger which was held open by him. It didn’t matter if we liked them or not because it was irrelevant. My dad ate his 5 pickle cheeseburger with ‘relish’. (Incidentally, burgers served in a bun are called ‘bun burgers’ in our house and even outside our house. My father once had to run out of the car into the restaurant at a drive through once at our local ‘Burger Master’ to explain what a ‘bun burger’ was as his strong Irish accent was causing the microphone to wail)

-I was forced to call my Irish grandfather ‘daddy pop’. Not one of my other cousins did and I was told I had to because it showed I had extra respect for him.

-When I shouted to my first girlfriend to come up quickly to the bathroom where I was, she raced up the stairs in panic in case I had slipped and was now toe deep in my own head blood she was utterly (and quite rightly) shocked, disgusted, and appalled that I was on the throne grinning with my index finger pointing to her and me asking her to pull my finger. The relationship didn’t really last much longer after that. I couldn’t understand at the time. That’s what loving couples did, right?

-At the first sleep over with my friends, I was shocked to learn that other people usually didn’t stick their head in a bowl of warm water and vigorously towel their hair dry as my whole family did.

-I also learned at that sleepover that waking people up with a cold sopping flannel in their face didn’t endear me much to them. I quickly realised that I had to unlearn and cease my oddball ways in order to make friends and keep them.

Oh well.

EDIT: looking back I think I was abused as child.
(powervator and NONE SHALL PASS, Fri 21 Nov 2008, 10:31, Reply)

It just gets my blood pumping...
The great end product of kitkats and butter which I refer to as my father has been having blood pressure and heart problems as of late and has one of those portable machines to help log his pressure over his 'stressful' day as an unemployed web addict. In fact, the most productive thing he's done in recent weeks is send me 30 or so emails addressed 'FW: Funny lolololol'.

Anyway, in order for the doctors to realise how much attention he probably needs in the lifestyle consultancy department, we take it upon ourselves to 'improve' the blood pressure results before he takes his test by pissing him off as much as possible.

Such goldies so far are:

'Dad, I think Mrs Badger might be pregnant'
'You know I'm gay though, right?'
'I've recently welcomed Allah into my life'
'Who's that bloke Mum was having lunch with yesterday?'

He's still not clocked on to it, but the Fat Bastard Police have put him on some sort of new experiemental wonderdrug for the ticking timebomb that he is. My work here is done.

Length etc
(FoxyBadger (try saying it backwards), Fri 21 Nov 2008, 10:29, Reply)

Maud
When my mother would have to round up my sisters and me in a hurry, any name which didn't spring instantly to memory was simply substituted with Maud. I think she was some lunatic great-great-aunt.
(Vice Admiral Sir Charles Cockbrush KCB MBE DSO, who is finding it increasingly difficult to log into b3ta.com wants to duck your aunt and kick your puppy, Fri 21 Nov 2008, 10:29, 1 reply)

Cutting Cake
Me and my sister used to do the 'One cuts, the other chooses' thing with cake and choccy bars and things.

The trick is to do the cutting out of sight, and take a chunk out of the middle and stuff it down *before* going back to the dining room with the two, equal, remaining slices.

I only got caught out because my I left the wrapper on a Mars bar once when I cut it, and my Sister noticed that it now only said 'Mrs' when it was put back together.

I was a mean child.

Something I can't get out of even now is a little ritual when it comes to eating boiled eggs. The *instant* the egg is finished, the spoon has to be put through the bottom of the shell to 'Stop the witches using them as cauldrons and flying about in them'

It's automatic.
( moogthedog, Fri 21 Nov 2008, 10:26, 5 replies)

Ambushes
For no reason whatsoever, my mum and dad both decide to put the computer chair (big, black leather thing) across the porch door and then they turn off all the lights in the house.

I'm sure in their head it's to deter burglars (Who'd come though the front door when breaking in?!?!?) but all it manges to do is catch me unawares when I walk in form the pub and results in swearing and much gnashing of teeth as I walk into it yet again in my inebriated state...
(Fuckarma was masturbating into your handbag, Fri 21 Nov 2008, 10:25, Reply)

naked music
My grandfather had a lot of strange rituals, mostly involving beer (which he would pour into a teapot so that his wife believed he sat at his desk all day drinking Japanese tea). He was a very talented musician, and when my mother brought home her first boyfriend he burst into the room to serenade them on his viola. Naked. Apparently that boy never came back again (it was 1950’s Japan, so all very prudish).

Fast forward 30 years, when I walked in on my sister as she was playing the cello, with no trousers on; her 8 year old mind had decided that her jeans would get stretched and baggy at the knees, so taking them off would mean they retained their shape. These days, the dainty little thing can still occasionally be found hammering away Beethoven sonatas on the piano wearing little more than her underwear.

There must be some mad money to be made in this.

EDIT - the problem with this QOTW is that there are so many little family things which are so incredibly funny to me, but probably will read as pretty bland to a bunch of people on the interweb whom i've never met...
( kitsune-tsuki tankeløst hode får lettest sove, Fri 21 Nov 2008, 10:20, 4 replies)

Bad hair day
When my mother's hair is less than compliant, particularly on a windy day, she refers to herself as looking like "the wreck of the Hesparus".

A wonderfully poetic description, although I very much doubt she has ever read the actual poem - so god knows how / why she uses this phrase....
(Mean Mad Mutski, Fri 21 Nov 2008, 10:18, 5 replies)

My Family ritual...
Taking lots of pills at night for high blood pressure and high cholesterol.

This means I have to have a ritual of watching what I eat and staying moderately healthy...

Fuckers
(Fuckarma was masturbating into your handbag, Fri 21 Nov 2008, 10:07, 2 replies)

Scissor paper stone
My brother and I decide everything with scissor paper stone; it prevents arguments and fights as the loser is honour bound to graciously fulfil the obligation as if not doing so had never been even a consideration. We once decided ownership of a house with this method. It avoids arguments.

The only problem is that we think so alike that each game becomes an lengthy test of bluff and second guess; our current record is thirteen consecutive draws, which only ended when we agreed to go halves.
(davywavy, Fri 21 Nov 2008, 9:52, Reply)

Familly sayings
There are two sayings that have been passed down from generation to generation in our familly and I haven't got a clue what they mean.

If someone is being a bit slow, a familly memeber will say "Hurry up, I'm stood here like one of Lewises"

Anyone misbehaving will be told "stop that or I'll put you in a home with your ears pinned back"

When getting ready to go out, somone will always say: "Put you shoes on Lucy, don't you know you're in the city"

Baffling, but I say them all to my wife, who has now started saying them as well.

Can anyone shed any light on the origins of these sayings?
(ScousersPet, Fri 21 Nov 2008, 9:51, 6 replies)

if i am back up north
at my parents' house, my dad will inevitably hiss loudly - ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss - as he walks past my bedroom door in the morning. even if it's obscenely early and he knows full well that the events of the night before will have made this rude awakening very painful for me.

similarly i will always reply "ssssssssssssssssssssssssshhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh".

this has been going on since i was about 6 (well, not the huge nights out and hangovers, clearly). i have no idea why.
( rachelswipe with a fork, Fri 21 Nov 2008, 9:50, 1 reply)

Ripping the piss constantly
like, in a my own father told me once, "You should have been a blow job" kind of way.

We rip each other to shreds every moment we spend together and we all laugh like loons about it.

It's pretty hard to fall out with people when the rules are 'no holds barred'.

We have a great dynamic.

However, this does not leave you well situated to go into the real world. People are awfully sensitive.

Boring bastards.

EDIT: Also, wrestling. We're all huge fight fans and with the right amount of alcohol, my brothers and I generally have a good old scrap. I've fought my Dad. The first time we had to stop and call it a draw cos me Ma wanted to watch the lotto but the second time I kicked his arse and he quit. Once he even sneaked up behind me and caught me in a rear naked choke (which is a Jiu-Jitsu submission) and he didnt let go until someone pointed out I was about to pass out cos I'm too hard to tap. Rargh!

Fighting is fun.
(bazmorningstar efil4nat3b, Fri 21 Nov 2008, 9:32, 5 replies)

Not so much a ritual...
...but as I grew up I kept finding out that everyday phrases my family used were (a) completely alien to most other people and (b) pinched from other languages rather than our own invention. Every evening the family would be gathered to the kitchen table in rapid order by somebody bellowing "ATTABLA!!!" (which lost something when I met the French phrase "à table"), my father would wish everybody "guten appetit" before we all tucked in, and any recalcitrance would be met with the exhortation "come on, it's lekker!"
(Vice Admiral Sir Charles Cockbrush KCB MBE DSO, who is finding it increasingly difficult to log into b3ta.com wants to duck your aunt and kick your puppy, Fri 21 Nov 2008, 9:26, Reply)

Ritual de Famille
When driving, my Uncle would always take his hands off the steering wheel, put them in the air and scream every time we went over a cattle grid.

I almost soiled myself the first time he did it.
( the_ships_cat is it meeee you're looking forrrr, Fri 21 Nov 2008, 9:23, 8 replies)

Boo!
Every morning when we wake up, the kids sneak into our bed for a bit of a cuddle before breakfast (awww..). Sadly I am rarely able to stay long because within a few minutes of waking, my guts will be expecting their morning exercise so I'll head off to the bathroom for a much-needed dump.

When I return to the bedroom, my son (who's four) will be hiding under the duvet. I am then expected to wander around the room, loudly pondering on his whereabouts until he decides it's time to throw back the duvet and yell 'Boo!' at the top of his voice.

If I don't follow this ritual, he will sulk and refuse to eat his breakfast.

Kids, eh?
( reallywittyname veraciously conspues lexiphanicism on, Fri 21 Nov 2008, 9:19, Reply)

Last?
Fucksocks. Well at least I finally solved that Freecell game.
(Vice Admiral Sir Charles Cockbrush KCB MBE DSO, who is finding it increasingly difficult to log into b3ta.com wants to duck your aunt and kick your puppy, Fri 21 Nov 2008, 9:03, Reply)

Baby talk
My little sister (not so little now nearly 30 years on) was born fairly late on compared to the rest of her siblings, consequently she became a bit of a centre of our lives in a "cutesy things that babies do" kinda way. Her main lasting influence is words which she couldn't say when she started to learn to talk which we still use to this day as perfectly normal English.

For instance:

She couldn't pronounce her own name, "Marion" was pronounced as "Mamoo", which we shortened to "Moo" and it stuck

Similarly big sis "Yvonne" became "Ott"
Glasses=Gakkies (Gaks for short)
Grandad=Gangank
Dungarees=Eegs

These are the ones that spring to mind, I'll stick more down as I remember. Not hilarious I know, but those with kids will understand.
(tinypod will never learn. Ever., Fri 21 Nov 2008, 8:47, 3 replies)

every family is equally weird
here are rituals/ rules whatever

no one person shall drink all the fruit juice. ever.

coca cola is not to be drank in the morning

if you refuse to get out of bed a frozen spoon willl be stuck to your foot.

you can drink at anytime in an airport bar.
(jordanchaos isn’t just any PeaRoast, this is a M&S PeaRoast, Fri 21 Nov 2008, 8:44, 4 replies)