My big brother Les was always in trouble when we were kids.
Even today, at our weekly Family Lunch, you will hear Mumsie cry,
"You're still not too big for a good hiding!"
He winds her up, he teases her, he playfully sits on her knee and 'forces' her to stroke his very hairy legs.
She squeals, she laughs, she cries, she swears at him, but he won't give in 'til she tells him he's the best son in the world.
When he was in his 30's, he lived away from Lincoln. One weekend he came home to attend a family party.
He stayed at my parents' house in his old bedroom.
I lived the other side of the City, so I stayed there too.
We had a great time at the party, got back to Mum and Dad's and all went upstairs to bed.
After about five minutes, Les shouted,
"Muuuuuum, Muuuuuuum. Quick Mum come here!"
Worried that he was feeling ill, or had one of his famous, regular, copious nosebleeds - she jumped out of bed and sped across the landing and into his room.
He put on his best 'Little Boy' voice and said,
"Canna have a drink of water, Mum, canna, canna?"
I could hear the slap from my room!
One night we had gone to bed very late, after returning from a day at the seaside.
Les was about 12, I was 7.
Mum came out of the bathroom and went in to say "Goodnight" to my brother.
He was hiding under the covers......
I heard her say,
"I've told you before. Don't do THAT! It'll make you go blind!"
I wondered what he could possibly be up to.
"Can I do it 'til I need glasses?" he asked.
Trying not to laugh she said,
"You already wear glasses, now settle down."
From beneath the covers, he brought.............
and a ..................
You naughty bloggeroos! What did you think I was going to say?
For another of my brother's escapades see here