Destruction 101

So the past few days have been fun for me, comparing childhood mishaps with friends and the subsequent damage to our parents' furniture and personal body parts. Ours, not theirs. Body parts that is. Well, except for maybe their hearts. I'm pretty sure my parents weren't too thrilled with me when I put a kickball through my bedroom window, or used the long hallway to go bowling in--taking out part of said hallway.

But alas, I was a kid and that was my job.  And I was VERY good at it.  Not as good as my brothers (who ripped my parent's carpet into two during a wrestling match), but good enough. I even broke a few bones to keep my ranking up. Or down. Or--whatever. You get the idea.

And that got me to thinking.  Surely we're not the only ones who have stories to tell. Windows to fix. Light fixtures to pay for (that was my brother's fault, I swear).

So let's hear it. Because this is the stuff great stories are made of (and fodder for novels)!  What have YOU done (that you're willing to admit to). And remember to keep it clean, cause honestly we've already dealt with the messes once, folks.  Let's not add to it shall we?