Siblings
Brothers and sisters - can't live with 'em, can't stove 'em to death with the coal scuttle and bury 'em behind the local industrial estate. Tell us about yours.
Thanks to suboftheday for the suggestion -we're keeping the question open for another week for the New Year
( , Thu 25 Dec 2008, 17:20)
Brothers and sisters - can't live with 'em, can't stove 'em to death with the coal scuttle and bury 'em behind the local industrial estate. Tell us about yours.
Thanks to suboftheday for the suggestion -we're keeping the question open for another week for the New Year
( , Thu 25 Dec 2008, 17:20)
« Go Back
Cot Death Failure
I am 8 years older than my sister. When I was 11 or 12, I thrashed her at a pillowfight. Obviously, it was a pretend fight and I didn't hurt her, but she didn't like losing, so started crying and told our mother I had indeed hurt her. I was sent to my room.
In my room, I grew angry. I left my room, and found my sister's large, heavy doll's house. I tied a piece of sewing thread to it, and looped the thread around an old hook above her bed, where a forlorn paper mobile once hung. I raised the doll's house to the ceiling, and tied the other end of the threads to her ladybird book, which I placed at an angle beneath her pillow.
My plan of her head resting on the pillow later that evening, causing the thread to break and the doll's house to crush her wretched lying skull failed (fortunately for me). She took one look at the device and called my mother; I was confined to my room yet again.
She still brings this up whenever she meets my friends for the first time. "My brother tried to kill me", she begins. I keep having to find new friends.
( , Tue 30 Dec 2008, 17:21, Reply)
I am 8 years older than my sister. When I was 11 or 12, I thrashed her at a pillowfight. Obviously, it was a pretend fight and I didn't hurt her, but she didn't like losing, so started crying and told our mother I had indeed hurt her. I was sent to my room.
In my room, I grew angry. I left my room, and found my sister's large, heavy doll's house. I tied a piece of sewing thread to it, and looped the thread around an old hook above her bed, where a forlorn paper mobile once hung. I raised the doll's house to the ceiling, and tied the other end of the threads to her ladybird book, which I placed at an angle beneath her pillow.
My plan of her head resting on the pillow later that evening, causing the thread to break and the doll's house to crush her wretched lying skull failed (fortunately for me). She took one look at the device and called my mother; I was confined to my room yet again.
She still brings this up whenever she meets my friends for the first time. "My brother tried to kill me", she begins. I keep having to find new friends.
( , Tue 30 Dec 2008, 17:21, Reply)
« Go Back