My sibling and I were quite… hmm lets say mischievious.
Both my brother and I had quite the temper. We were like raging fire, figting over things like last strand of Maggi Noodle or that shiny Toffee wrapper.
There’s not much age difference between me and my siblings,and while growing up we were almost of same size and height. So you can imagine what a ruckus we created for clothes. My sister would handwash her clothes and dilligently iron her stylish tees and jeans and then hide them all. My brother and I would spend hours trying to find the location. I would go for the shirts and he, for the jeans.
My brother will get all decked up with copious amount of hairgel, nauseating deodrant and her jeans (somehow they were a perfect fit). He would deliberately walk past her and soon as soon she realizes that it’s her jeans, he would jump on his bike and ride away. There would be sparks flying all over the place, while mom would try to calm her down.