I too was a jokester as a little kid. I put salt in the sugar bowl; I tied the sleeves of my mother's blouses together on the side away from view in the closet, so that when she pulled one out, they would all come.
I fiddled with the controls of the car while she was scraping the windshield--turned on the radio, the air conditioner, the blinkers, etc.. I managed to put the car in reverse once and it rolled into a light pole in the apartment parking lot.
I climbed all the time, too. I used to climb up to the cabinet over the refrigerator and had to be taken to the hospital when I got some of my grandmother's pills that were up there. I just knew they were candy, even though they tasted terrible.
I also liked to take my clothes off outside.
When I was 20, I accidentally shot someone with a BB gun. There was a streetlight and a big metal sign for the Knights of Columbus facility right across the street from my house. One night I looked out and there was a couple kissing under the streetlight. It ticked me off because I didn't have a boyfriend.
I got the BB gun and was trying to hit the sign to make a noise to scare them off. But I missed. The girl, who had her back to me, grabbed her butt and they both looked around frantically, then ran away.

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"Lonely is as lonely does.
Lonely is an eyesore."