Was there something in your past that your friends or siblings would hold over you that would get you in big trouble?

did you ever tell on yourself? did you ever come clean?

Or were you the one that did the crafty blackmailing?

-- Anonymous, June 02, 1999

Answers

I have one older sister and one younger brother, so you can just imagine the kind of things we held over each other. We always got in trouble in pairs though and the one who wasn't involved would threaten to tell. Then the bargaining would start.

"If you don't tell, I'll give you 5 Tootsie Rolls tomorrow."

"Nuh huh. Not good enough."

"Okay, how about 10 nickels as well?"

"Maybe...."

"How about I smack the shit out of you when mom isn't looking?"

"Okay, okay, I won't tell"

The only times we'd ever come clean to my mother is when an agreement could not be made and we knew it was do or die. Then we'd race to my mother and tell her how we are confessing because we felt so guilty about it and tease the third party how he/she couldn't tell anymore.

Ah, I miss my childhood. I've learned so much from it. :-)

-- Anonymous, June 02, 1999

My sister and I did that.....she wasn't allowed to touch me. No smacking, no spanking, nothing. Well, one day she hit me and I called her a "faggot" - a word I heard a high school kid say on the bus. My sister, who was 17 when I was 6, threatened to tell on me if I told on her for saying the word. We agreed not to tell, then she told anyway. She thought it was funny how mom and dad lectured me on why that word isn't very nice. She quit laughing when I told them about her hitting me. That's how it went most of the time. And being that she's older, she always got in more trouble because "she should have known better." haha

-- Anonymous, June 02, 1999

I have always been into guilt. My father was in the Navy for my entire childhood. He would go away for several months at a time and the whole house would relax, be messy and totally lacking disipline. My three sisters and I were completely in fear of him when he was at home for 2-3 months between deployments. One christmas (I was six) my mother gave my father a nice black marble and brass shaving set. Complete with an old fashioned brush and mug. As soon as he left on his next deployment I started playing with it... foaming up the soap with the brush and putting it on my face, legs etc. I bet you can see this coming. Of course the foam made everything slippery and I managed to break it.... For the next few months I couldn't sleep at all. I think this is where my love of reading comes from... I would stay up and read instead of laying awake sweating. The week before he came home I was physically sick every night. My mother was really worried about me (and I got that week off school) Anyhow he came home... and never noticed. A few months later I decided it was okay and found something else to stay up late worrying about.

The other thing that stands out in my mind is when I (7) and my sister (5) went to stay with my grandmother. She was a goodie two shoes and we got into a fight over something. I was so mad I called her "butthole" I don't know where it came from... it just popped out of my mouth. She bribed me for a day or so... til my mother called to check on us. I spoke to my mother telling her I was fine and etc. I passed the phone to my sister so she could do the same... too late I saw her eyes light up. She didn't even give my mother a chance to speak. She said "Mae called me a BUTTHOLE." and handed the phone back to me. This was all in front of my old mema. I really thought I was going to die. I said something to my mother and then didn't speak for the rest of the day. No one punished me. I think my grandma realised I was feeling guilty enough. heehee. I never got my sister back for that one......

Mae

-- Anonymous, June 02, 1999

I never got in the kind of trouble that could be covered up, so I was essentially un-blackmailable growing up: broke the toilet, broke the shower door, smashed the car, etc.

If anyone knows how I can harness this destructive power for the good of mankind, please let me know.

-- Anonymous, June 02, 1999

When I was about 7 or so I was at my dad's house one Sunday afternoon. A girl who lived upstiars from came with me that day and we were playing in the lake in front of my dad's house. After hours of playing in the sand I went in the water to wash off, and I ended up going a little bit too far out in the water (I couldn't swim). I could feel the water going up to my ears and I let out a sorta small cry for help so that my friend could save me. She held out a float for me to grab on to and pulled me to safety.

I panicked because my mom was due to pick me up within a half hour and since I couldn't swim, I just KNEW she'd have a cow if she saw me with my hair all wet and she would wonder how that happened. So I made my friend promise not to tell her. She promised, but not without holding it over my head for the next *5* years that I lived in that house.

Everytime she wouldn't get her way, she would make a fishy face at me, and that indicated that if I didn't play by her rules, I was going to have to fess up to my mom.

Trivial, Silly, but my mom still doesn't know about it to this day :)

-- Anonymous, June 02, 1999

My brother and I get along really well, we never fought (I'm 19 and he's 17) but once, when we were younger, that song, "Damn, I wish I wsa your Lover" came on. I was singing along and before you could say tattletale, my brother went, "MOOOO--OOOM, Ky said 'DAMN'!!!" I spluttered and was like, "Mum, I was singing along to a SONG." This earned my brother a lecture on things being in context and to not be a tattletale.

-- Anonymous, June 02, 1999

It wasn't anything that would get me in trouble, but it was highly embarassing. When I was a young'un, I decided legos should fit up my nose. Well, you know those little one-square pieces? I jammed one of those suckers right up there, so far that I had to be taken to the emergency room to have it removed with a very long pair of tweezers. My sister would threaten to tell my boyfriends, friends, teachers, or anyone else who would listen when she wanted me to do something -- like her turn to do dishes -- that she didn't want to do.

And now I've gone and told the whole durn Internet.

-- Anonymous, June 02, 1999

Carly, you just made my day. Do you have a URL?

By young'un, we're talking younger than 14, yes?

-- Anonymous, June 02, 1999

Heh. This isn't exactly blackmail but...

I remember once when Holly (my sister) and I had heard a pretty new name on a TV Movie of the Week. We were in the backseat of the car, practically tearing each other apart, arguing over which of us would be the one to get to name her doll this new name. My mother, who was driving the car, insisted we tell her what we were fighting about. I wailed, "Moooom! Holly wants to name her dolly Imbecile, but *I* was going to name *my* dolly that!"

My mom had to pull over to the side of the road, she was laughing so hard.

What? It's a pretty name, if you don't know what it means!

-- Anonymous, June 02, 1999

I learned the technique of "shoot the hostages" when my sister attempted ruthless blackmail. I'd tell my parents before she could, knowing that she couldn't resist jumping in and embellishing the story as I came clean. I'd get a little bit of what was coming to me balanced with a pep talk about being so honest and how the wrongful act I'd committed must have been weighing heavily on my conscience. Tears usually helped at this point -- the more I shed in the telling, the lighter the punishment.

My sister, meanwhile, would get a lecture about being a tattletale.

-- Anonymous, June 02, 1999

I have to wait until my sister gets home and talk to her about this one, since most of my childhood memories are repressed and I know we bribed eachother but I can't remember why.

For now, I am writing to say that y'all have given me the best laugh I've had in weeks. I can't wait to read once more of you post on this forum!

-- Anonymous, June 02, 1999

I was 8 and my sister was 4. All day long she would bug me to "play wif her". After an especially tedious day of this, I backed her into a corner and told her that if she didn't shut up and leave me alone I was going to "ram this hairbrush right down your throat". I believe that it was a pink Goody hair brush and I may have waved it over my head for dramatic effect. You know what happened then...for over a year I endured "if you don't play wif me, I will tell about The Hairbrush." I was putty in the hands of this child. Mom eventually heard the whole story in bits and pieces just by listening thru the door when we would fight. She let it go on for a while...she wanted to teach me a lesson. Finally, I got tired of the whole thing. Being 9 yrs. old and forced to play house was pure torture. I decided to just own up to it and get on with it. My sister made the usual threat"come play wif me, or I will tell about The Hairbrush..." and I said "No. I don't care. I am tired of this." Mom walked in and told my sister there was no need to tell, she already knew and gosh, wasn't it a bad thing to blackmail someone? I don't believe my sister has uttered the "ohhhh...I'm gonna tell" phrase since then.

-- Anonymous, June 03, 1999

Oh God. There were so many blackmails between me, my sister and my two brothers that I will just leave it at that. I will say that I always, without exception, won the blackmail fights by threatening to kill all of them if they told anything on me. I guess I grimaced menacingly enough, because they believed me and held me in great fear until one day my threat was in earshot of my dad, who promptly spanked me and informed all my sibs that they would never die by my hand. It sucked ass. I was powerless after that and resorted to crocodile tears to make them feel sorry for me instead. About your savior in a paper wrapper, Pamie...good thing you weren't a kid right now, you would be dead meat, because goldenrod was discontinued:( It was my favorite, right after periwinkle. Now Crayola makes Granny Smith Apple and Macaroni and Cheese and Radical Red. How stupid is that? I just realized that I didn't "leave it at that". Sorry:)

-- Anonymous, June 03, 1999

Blackmail was never actually needed. Good old fashioned fear of loss of life or limb kept my older brother(two years) in line. I was smaller than him for the first seven years of my life during which time everyone told him that I would be bigger than him someday. He didn't listen very well. He picked on me mercilessly for those few years, and a couple more for good measure; until I finally realised the advantage that had befallen me. One day as he pinched and tormented me I decided to test this new power. I told him that if he didn't leave me alone he would regret it. He said "what, are you gonna tell on me?" Uh...no. him-*pinch* I hit him so hard that I gave him two black eyes to frame his broken nose. Very pretty. I was 'punished' within an inch of my life. Did I mention that dad is 6'6"? I was a quick learner though. From then on when big bro got violent I would drag him to the floor and sit on him until the desire and energy to struggle or retaliate dwindled. This is where I learned patience because 'uncle' didn't mean I give up. It meant-'Wait until you let me up freakishly large little brother and then I'll take another swing at you'. Fun stuff. As we got older the threat of actual physical harm had to be taken up a notch because beanpole boy was becoming immune to marathon sitting; plus he could run faster than me. So when the butcher knife stuck *sprooiinng* into the doorframe inches from his fleeing head he began to wonder if the doorframe was the target or a poorly aimed head substitute. This small worrisome incident carried me through until he spread his scrawny wings of independence. Oh come on, I meant to hit the frame- practice makes perfect. For those who think my brother must be a small, shell of a man to this day, relax. We are now the best of friends, as long as he pays me that protection money every month. I'm just kidding-geez! He is a fine husband and father-with two little boys..two years apart. Oh the glorious karma.

-- Anonymous, June 03, 1999

I have two brothers 7 and 8 years older than I. For most of my tender youth they succeeded in giving me Chinese Water Torture whenever my parents left the house and blackmailed me into not telling because the next time it would just be worse. I think I was about 30 before I finally told my mother. She couldn't believe it.

-- Anonymous, June 03, 1999

At the risk of sounding stupid, what is Chinese Water Torture?

-- Anonymous, June 04, 1999

DRIP--DRIP--DRIP--DRIP--DRIP--DRIP--DRIP--DRIP--DRIP--DRIP--DRIP-- DRIP--DRIP--DRIP--DRIP--DRIP--DRIP--DRIP--DRIP--DRIP....YOU GET IT? Preferably on a sensitive part of the anatomy; Historically in the very middle of an upraised, and immobile forehead. Maddening. Imagine, if you have ever heard it, a faucet that will not stop dripping when you are trying to sleep. Now imagine it dripping on your forehead; for Hours. There are other variations.

-- Anonymous, June 04, 1999

Lee, that's exactly right! Are you sure you're not one of my evil brothers?

-- Anonymous, June 04, 1999

My brother is two years older than me and about four times as big. When we were younger, we used to fight horribly. We were ruthless. It's a wonder we never drew blood because all bets were off when we fought.

One time we were in the midst of a tangle for some reason or other with me on the ground and him sitting on top of me tormenting away. He liked to stick his finger under my nose, right above my top lip in that little groove area. I have no clue why but it drove me nuts.

After what seemed like forever, I wiggled my hand free and some how knoced him off of me. I grabbed the nearest thing - which happened to be the phone - and wacked him over the head with it. Needless to say he passed out cold. A few minutes later he regained consciousness only to find me hovering over him with all the money I had in the world outstretched in front of me. "Oh please oh please oh please don't tell mom and dad. I'll give you all the money I have for the next twenty years. Please don't tell on me."

We didn't fight as much after that. I wonder why.

-- Anonymous, June 04, 1999

Uhh...no? I mean NO. I promise--cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye. Where is that crossed finger icon? X X

-- Anonymous, June 04, 1999

Mike, I was, like, 5 years old. And yep, I have a url: http://www.sins.ca (Pamie, I hope you don't mind the plug.)

-- Anonymous, June 07, 1999

I uh...do have one.

When I was younger, like 10, I used to overuse the s word when I was younger. My sister, who is 3 years old than me, heard me, and everytime she wanted me to her a favor and refused, she would say, "I heard you say it." and I would do it right away. Then, I caught her making out with a forbidden boy who I was 100% positived did drugs, so we had to use that against each other. It worked great. We were ruthless children, and we are still ruthless as teens.

-- Anonymous, April 23, 2000