Oh, the guilt
I beat my brother round the head with a lead pipe when I was 7 or so, and he was 5. He got a lovely 1/2" scar above his right eye.

I shoved him aside in the face of a charging bull once, I'd meant to save him, nothing major happened, except a nasty shock from the electric fence I'd sent him catapulting into.

When I was 12 or so, I sent him off once to retrieve the food dish of a Chow bitch in heat next door (who was being mated with at the time... by some neighborhood stray) ...in the hopes they'd stop (didn't even think about the hose). Cue large gashes on the face, several disgusting gobby bits of fat hanging free, more stitches than I care to remember, rabies shots, and several weeks' grounding.

He paid me back though - when I was 14 he bailed on me after driving the three-wheeler we were on off the soft shoulder of a neighbor's white-rock driveway. Broke my hand and left me with a nasty scar on my leg. Hand's still a bit gimp, but you'd never notice unless you were me...

I mean, dammit, I scarred him for life, but he broke my bones! And those were scars of sibling LOVE!
(Ecclesia, Wed 24 Aug 2005, 8:23, Reply)