Now I know this may sound weird to you but I love to torture my little brother. I say little, he is 30 now but none of the pleasure I feel from him squealing like a girl for mum has diminished.
My favourite method of torture is to steal his car keys and deposit them at the back of my trousers hanging over the waistband. I then wiggle my bum at him shouting "Release the Cracken".
Now you know the story - there can be only one cake for his Birthday.
I took his keys and sketched them so that I could make an accurate copy of them in sugar.
I do love my brother - even if I do make his life a living hell. But as I keep telling him "it's my job! I am his big sister and that's what sisters do".
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