I don’t ever remember getting grounded. But I went on a LOT of training missions with more senior male members of the family. My one uncle still blows things up.
There was a day when the family had grouped up and for some reason (”I’m sick of your crap ya little barstard”) my grandpa tied me to a corral post and they all loaded up and went on a day long picnic. I was five or six at the time.
Paintball tourney.
“Hunt the nephew” run, family teams.
Can’t believe I am going to tell this one.
When I was 13, one night a couple of my friends and I were hanging out. We notice that someone is trying to drop from the roof onto the 6th floor fire escape. He lowers himself and is holding on to the vent with one hand, the roof with the other hand and his foot is trying to touch the top of the handrail.
We start yelling jump. We don’t know if he is trying to break into an apartment or if he doesn’t have his keys. I bet I could hit him and we pick up rocks and start throwing them at him. All of a sudden, he lets go, hits the railing feet first and tumbles 6 stories into the bushes. We hear the thud. Will never forget that sound.
Not knowing whether to run away, see if he is alive or run to find a cop, we are frozen, looking at each other like we are in deep doo doo. All of a sudden there is rustling in the bushes and the guy stumbles out of them and limps off. We are now laughing hysterically.
Turns out his girlfriend locked him out of the apartment and he was trying to get back in.