When I was a tween and my sister had big sleepovers, I was allowed to have one person over to keep me company as well. I usually asked my cousin over, because she and I were around the same age and the only person I was really close with.
Things usually went pretty smoothly during the day, but come night time, my sister and her friends would begin pranking us mercilessly. Everything from putting our underwear in the freezer to putting shaving cream on us while we slept to
popping out of random places and scaring us. One night, we decided we had enough.
Things usually went pretty smoothly during the day, but come night time, my sister and her friends would begin pranking us mercilessly. Everything from putting our underwear in the freezer to putting shaving cream on us while we slept to
popping out of random places and scaring us. One night, we decided we had enough.
My sister had been warned earlier about the pranking after my cousin and I complained about it. We stayed up late, chugging soda to keep us going until all the older kids had fallen asleep. Then, we pulled out the markers and began drawing all over each others faces. Smears of red and green and purple, we left no areas untouched. We even added little marker streaks to our pillows, to make it look like somebody's hand had slipped while they were scribbling on our faces. Then we went peacefully to sleep and waited for the chaos to ensue.
Everything went as planned. Their pranks had been mostly harmless until now, they certainly never did anything that would stain or last more than a couple of hours. My sister and her friends were in deep trouble, and we got off scot free.
The highlight of this story for me is a conversation from the following day between my sister and my grandpa:
sister: But I didn't do anything!
grandpa: What? So we're supposed to believe they did this to themselves?