The summer before I left for college, I developed a strange ritual with my brother, who is six years younger than me. The ritual was rather straightforward if a bit odd. We performed it every evening till our mother discovered our activities and began hiding the toaster because she thought we were going to burn the house down or something.
Every night around 7:30 or so, I would give my brother the ritual phrase of initiation. “I was wondering if you would like to join me in my quarters this evening for some toast.” Of course my brother would agree to this proposal. Just after 8pm, I would sneak the toaster out of the kitchen and creep up the stairs to my bedroom with it. At 8:30 on the dot, my brother would arrive at my bedroom door with the bread, and we would commence toasting the bread.
The toast was not to be tainted with any toppings or condiments but rather consumed dry. We would make idle chitchat whilst enjoying the fruits of our secretive labors. Our conversation was usually quite polite and formal. Shortly before 9pm, my brother would leave my bedroom, and I would replace the toaster in the kitchen.
We were able to carry on our ritual for a few weeks before our club was discovered.