A play on what your parents did. I honestly cannot think of anything… 
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Ha, good topic! I clammed up whenever I was upset. I just couldn’t get the words out. So my parents had to play 20 Questions with me on a regular basis. I imagine that was very annoying.
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I was a pretty quite kid and a rule follower so I don’t know anything that comes to mind.
I could tell you some annoying things my sibs did though! 
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I was a drama queen 
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My mom was not a great cook…but she only prepared one meal for dinner. If I did not want that, I could eat PB and J. I think I had PB and J for most dinners once I could make it myself.
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When I was young, I hid in the closet whenever someone I didn’t know came over to visit. I’m sure it was really annoying for my parents.
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For a while, a pretty constant refrain of “I’m BORED”.
I was a big cryer, even as a young adult. I didn’t do it on purpose, but i was very sensitive.
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Apparently I fulfilled all of my British relatives’ stereotypes about the ugly American as a self centered six year old, despite my recollection of being a delightful child.
I wouldn’t eat breakfast (still don’t) no matter what was put in front of me, and I cried every morning before school until about third grade. I detested school even after I stopped crying about it. I wish homeschooling had been a thing back then. Otherwise, like @stradmom, I was a delightful child. 
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One evening my parents had a party at the house. I was maybe 9 (?) and I wanted to occupy myself while the company was there (no idea where my brother was) so I went into his room, took out his chemistry set, and made stink bombs with the jar of sulphur! My parents (and their guests) were not amused, as it stunk up the whole house!
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My mom didn’t want me chewing gum because she said it’d wind up in my (pixie) hair and have to be cut out.
Me, kindergarten: somehow got orange gum. Fell asleep with it in my mouth. Wound up in my hair. Knew my mom would be mad, so I took a pair of scissors and cut my bangs to remove said gum so she wouldn’t notice I had disobeyed. The result is memorialized in my school picture, which was taken the next day.
I was also really nosy. I loved hearing adult conversations. Learned a lot about things my parents didn’t want me to know.
I also cried a LOT. Was a sensitive soul. Teachers and parents were exasperated!
As the eldest, I was blamed for the annoying things my sibs, esp the brother two years younger than me, did.
As a tween, I swiped my mom’s bodice-ripper historical fiction novels to read. Mom was not happy about her missing books or about the “education” I was getting by reading them!
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Me too! I can tell you some really interesting stories about folks in my home town.
I didn’t repeat those stories, but I talked a lot otherwise. Likely too much.
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It annoyed my mom to no end that I all I wanted to do in my free time was read books. I fought with her about going to beach camp and doing swimming lessons every single summer. I just wanted to sit in the shade with my books.
And I was terrified of all kinds of things - sharks, vampires, fire, burglars, etc… I woke up at night for years. (Probably because I was reading books too mature for my age ; )).
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Oh, yeah, the reading! I remember being in the backseat of our car, driving through the Rockies on vacation, and my parents being annoyed that my nose was stuck in a book.
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I was crouched at the top of the stairs at age 5 or 6 to eavesdrop on my mom and uncle and rolled down the flight of stairs. Immediately sent to my room.
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I read constantly. The library was within walking distance, and I was there all the time. I read a lot of books that would cause the Moms of Liberty to lose their minds. Luckily, I somehow made it through without becoming a depraved, perverted ne’er do well. And fortunately for me, my parents were free range parents.
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Is it any surprise that so many of us, interested in higher education & regularly reading a forum, were under the covers with a flashlight level of childhood readers?!
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I enjoyed “alone time”, and could easily keep myself occupied. As a punishment (for unknown reasons at this point), I would be sent to my room. Hours later, they would find me happily doing something, with no need to come out. I didn’t think it was annoying, but my parents evidently did.
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My dad was always telling me “You spend more time trying to get out of doing things than it would ever take you to do them”.
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