I'm the eldest in my family. I reacted badly when my brother Jeremy came along when I was one and a half. I did the conventional things like try to flush his teddy bear down the toilet and lead him out to play in the traffic.
I showed him those learn to read books that have a picture of a cow on one page and the word 'cow' on the facing page. I'd run my finger under the word 'cow' and say 'sheep'.
Before he could walk or talk, I'd break something, put him next to it, hit him so he'd start crying, and then hide in a good vantage point near-by to watch the ensuing fun. Until the day Mum snapped me, that is.
A few years ago, we were out drinking and talking about this. Jeremy said he wouldn't tell me what the worst thing I did was. He was going to wait till we're older and he'd got his revenge first.
I reckon he's making that up. His sneaky plan is that is his revenge – making me worry – so I am therefore nonchalantly unconcerned.
Fucking family eh?