My sister once accidentally insulted me, and I thought it was hysterical. It was a Fourth of July party, family and friends, and after the firework show I sang a chorus of Martina McBride's "Independence Day." Well, my sister does tend to get mentally confused sometimes. Her son wanted to know if the firework show was over, or if there was more coming. My sister answered absent-mindedly, "It's not over till the fat lady sings--oh wait, she did." It's because I know she's such a dizzy ditz (and I say that affectionately) that I found it so funny, even though she'd basically just come right out and called me fat. If she'd meant it, or said it to be cruel, I'd have been hurt.

My oldest brother, on the other hand, was a different story when we were younger. I don't think he'd do it now, but as kids, he used to pick me raw, and the more it hurt, the more he'd keep it up. I remember him being told, numerous times, "When you see that it hurts, stop." But then in the next sentence, I'd be chided too for being "too sensitive," and "not able to take a joke." And my first husband also used to play that game. I agree that ribbing and verbal bullying are two very different things. There is a big jump from accidentally hitting a sore spot, to knowing exactly where the sore spots are and then deliberately kicking them.