One was the occasions when I was at home where in theory at least my younger brother was looking after me although if this chronological age thing had anything to do with it it would of been the other way around.
Ours was a house like a good many back then that had a coal fire in the front room although we did burn the odd bit of wood and that although it wasn't a proper log burner that having spent what seemed like ages getting it going with firelighters, tindling and coal, you needed to keep well lit until it was time for bed in order for us to stay all cozy playing or watching tv.
He always seemed put out to be this kind of situation, thinking somehow my being disabled cost home unspecified lost opportunities and for good measures had a number of crazy ideas of one tended to be someone just HAD to make it possible for him to spend his money and still get more.
Unfortunately he took to psychologically bullying me in attempts to make up the difference, thinking if he kept it up I'd hand over either my pocket money or holiday funds to him that day and if that wasn't enough he come back the next day for more.
It wasn't long before he kept putting forward demands for handing over my money saying I didn't need it that week and he wanted it one after another never letting go to the point he'd really wound me up and I chucked that money right into the fire saying if was going to get it when my back was turned then that was it.
Fairly recently I told Mum about this and she was dumfounded to hear about had gone on.