My brother is about five years older than me and very smart, and, for most of my young life, I was his little minion. Needless to say, we could be complete terrors to our parents at times. This is one such incident; I am around five or six and my brother is ten or eleven.

We’re playing in the backyard and notice that our dog has created a rather sizable crater. It’s large enough to say, fit a small child. I lie in it to check the fit and we get a couple of shovels to expand it when it’s not quite big enough. Then, I lie down in the hole and my brother puts a piece of plywood over me, asking me to push up on it to make sure I can escape easily. With a hollowed-out dog bone by my head as a snorkel and a thin layer of dirt on top, our trap is set, and my brother goes inside to find Mom.

Brother: *Excitedly* “Mom! Try to find [My Name]!”

I hear Mom walk around for a few moments.

Mom: “I don’t see her.”

Brother: “She’s here. Look harder!”

Mom: “Is she hiding?”

Brother: “Yep!”

I hear some slightly more frantic footsteps.

Mom: *Getting hysterical* “[Brother], where is your sister?!”

Brother: *Gleefully* “I buried her!”

Mom: “YOU WHAT?!”

Taking my cue, I sat up, pushing the dirt and plywood off of me like a zombie rising from the grave, to the gobsmacked shock of our mother.

I don’t remember what punishment we received for our little prank, but I think it involved a spoon and a promise from both of us to never entomb our sibling again.

It’s dinner time. My younger brother’s eyes are glued to his device and he is barely eating. My parents are adamant that I am not to steal his device — again — so I am reduced to nagging him to eat faster. It isn’t working. After I’ve lost my patience, I say this.

Me: “[Younger Brother]. You will start eating your food faster, or else I’ll be forced to feed you.”

He’s like eight. I thought that threatening to feed him like a baby would have been embarrassing enough. Alas, he calls my bluff.

Younger Brother: *Not even looking up* “Sure!”

I sigh, scoop a mouthful of food, and offer it to him. He eats it without even looking and visibly winces. After struggling with the worst expression of disgust, he finally swallows his food and glares at me.

Younger Brother: “What the h*** was that?”

Me: *Unrepentant grin* “Liver. It is just the worst, isn’t it?”

The two of us absolutely hate liver. On the other hand, our mom loves it, which is why there is some available at the dinner table.

Younger Brother: “Why did you feed me that?!”

Me: “It’s not my fault you weren’t looking at what you were eating.”

That finally got him to put down his device and start eating in earnest. Unfortunately, over the years, I’ve had to redo this trick several times to get him off his device, mostly using chili, which was more common than liver and had far more amusing and effective results. You’d think he’d have learned his lesson by now.

My dad served in Vietnam between 1969 and 1972. During this time, he saw many of his fellow soldiers injured.

One drew the lucky straw in a firefight and wasn’t fatally injured. The bullet went in one side and out the other side — of his buttocks.

While he was laid up in the hospital, my dad and a few friends visited him.

They all very solemnly entered the guy’s hospital room and very seriously informed him that the doctors had told them that the patient’s bottom was going to have to be amputated due to the injury.

But they were going to get him a nice wooden replacement from the resident local crafters, all shiny and polished, with a belt to hold it on. And they might even be able to afford a pink plastic one for Sundays!

About that time, the patient cottoned on that this was a prank.

Dad and his friends managed to duck out before the bedpan hit them.

Recently, scammers have been calling my grandmother’s landline using local numbers. She has caller ID, so if the scammers call using, say, John Doe’s number, it shows up as such. I live nearby and visit nearly every day to make sure she’s okay, so I’ve intercepted quite a few of these calls. 

The phone rings, showing John Doe as the caller.

Me: “Hey, Gram, are you expecting a call from John Doe?”

Grandma: “No, he’s in [Local Hospital].”

I answer the phone.

Me: “John! How’s that anal leakage?”

Caller: “Um…” *Click*

A moment later, the same number comes up, this time listed as “unknown caller.” I can’t believe they’re actually this stupid, so I answer. The caller has an accent you rarely hear in the middle of Bumble, Nowhere.

Me: “County Mortuary.”

Caller: “Uh, I— Sorry, what?”

Me: “County Mortuary.”

Caller: “I need to speak with [Badly Butchered Version Of My Grandmother’s Name].”

Me: “I’m sorry, who’s calling?”

Caller: “Um. I need to speak with—”

Me: “Do you need a body picked up?”

Caller: *Confused* “No. I—”

Me: “Are you calling for the status of an autopsy?”

Caller: *Frustrated* “No, I—”

Me: “I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.”

Caller: “Where is [Badly Butchered Name]?”

Me: “I don’t see her name on any of the drawers. Was she supposed to be picked up? Which facility are you calling from?”

Caller: *Angry* “She lives there!”

Me: “If anybody lives here, I have a problem.”

Caller: *As he hangs up* “What the f***…”

My grandmother gave me a stern look for messing with the caller but couldn’t hold it for long.

My girlfriend and I are stuck at home and we’re ordering food through a delivery app. In the special instructions, she requests that the burgers have no pickles since she doesn’t like them.

When the food finally arrives, she eats her portion and I decide to eat mine later. When she’s finished, she angrily tells me to look at the s*** bag that we were delivered. I go to look and on the side of the bag there is a message that reads, “Ex-tra pickles. Have a great day :)”.

At this point, I tear open my burger to see if it has pickles — I love them, by the way! — and found none. I ask my girlfriend if hers had pickles and there were none on hers, either, so no harm done. She then goes into a rant while I try to explain to her that it was a joke on behalf of the fast food worker and that there was no harm done.

It even gets a chuckle out of me, which only makes my girlfriend angrier, and she continues on her rant about paying for a service and expecting seriousness and hiring a clown if she wanted humor.

I hope that whoever did this to the food finds this post so I can tell them that I appreciated the gesture to lighten the situation and that I apologize on behalf of my girlfriend.