When I was younger and my siblings and I would get into some sort of trouble, or when we wanted to ask our parents for something, they'd always send me in first. "You're the youngest, so they'll be the least mad at you," they said. "No," I said, "You just need me to go in and use up their bullets so you can trample over my bloody corpse to safety!"
I started calling myself the Marine of the family.
ME too! I was, essentially, the youngest of 7 kids. There were 5 siblings, but we also lived right next door to two of my cousins, and we spent every waking moment together, so it was more like 7 siblings with two sets of parents. Only my cousin's parents weren't really so good at the parenting part.
But they really DID send me in because my dad would hardly ever say No to me. Mom was an entirely different story.