Growing up with my 2 brothers, one of the rottenest things we could do to each other is point a toe in their direction and "bzzzz" them. It was as low-down as you could get, and inevitibly, the person on the receiving end would holler "Mom!!! Jamie just buzzed me!" It meant war. And bzzzing would abound!
Anyhow, today while laying on the couch for a moment with little Lucy, I found myself pointing my sock-covered foot in little John's direction and "bzzzzing" at him. (socks or barefeet were more criminal than shoes.) Without flinching, or missing a beat, he calmly responded. "Who cares, I got a blocker on." ("What?!" I thought in outrage. "There's no blocking!") I bzzzed him again, this time with a little more stretch and point to the toe. Still without faltering, he shrugged at me. "I don't care, I got my blocker on."
I was furious (to myself). There's no blocking! You can't change the rules to a game we created 30 some years ago. I've been bzzzing for years. Hmmmph. Blocking is just wrong. I bzzzed him again just because, as he turned to walk away. Ha. I got the last bzzz.
