When I was 11 and my bro was 9 we got in a fight over something petty (can't remember), while at our mom's house. I won, but he stabbed me in the back with a pencil. Mom gave Pops a call, he came over later, and heard both sides of the story. I was then told to go to my room and not more than 30 seconds later I heard a loud "smack" followed by my brother crying, followed by more smacks and crying. I remember being so happy hearing that--but now I feel guilty in retrospect![]()

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I hate a lot of my cousins
