My own story goes something like this: We were going to play cowboys and indians and we were going to burn someone at the stake. We got a stake and were going to pound it into the stone driveway using a 17 lb (we weighed it on the bathroom scale) rectangular block of granite. Well, that didn't work so I threw the block down on the ground hitting my younger brother on the foot. Of course he yelled bloody murder, so I said that didn't hurt, see? and did it again! I don't know if it was the first time or the second that broke his foot! Dad happened to be away hunting deer during the old early rifle season in the Apostle Islands -- I was sure hoping brother would get his cast off before Dad got home (He didn't). Looking back, my punishment was certianly fitting (I absolutely hated it!). I had to pull by brother so school for 6 weeks in our old red Radio Flier wagon! And believe me, he didn't cut me any slack, either, that mouthy kid! I was probably in 5th grade at the time, which would have put him in 2nd. Probably the worst time was having to pull him 5 or 6 blocks to a birthday party.