My brother Brandon was my father's favorite child (mainly due to being the first-born son), but he once did something that probably made my dad mad before I was born. While I consider myself to be the anti-thesis of what a southern is portrayed, in the 80's I hear my parents acted like a bunch of rednecks. One day on the front porch my mother went back inside to get something, but before she left she pumped a BB rifle full of air and left it to the side. While she swears she doesn't understand why she would do such a thing, she sure remembers what happened next.
Right before she went back outside, she heard my father scream a curse with her name attached. A BB hit my dad straight in the leg, and he knew the other person responsible. It was brother Brandon, who was barely a toddler at the time. If my father was still alive, I have to wonder how fondly he would remember the story.