Buttricide

Fair warning:  This post may only interest the Cruz siblings.  Carol wanted it on the record that she did not approve of this posting.  This is a follow up to a previous blog post on "buttressing."  Here's the refresher from the old post:

The dictionary defines "buttress" as "a projecting support of stone or brick built against a wall."  The Cruz family has its own unique definition to this word.  A good buttressing is when you entice the victim to place their head in the vicinity of your buttocks, preferably at point-blank range, so that you can release a loud bombardment of flatulence right in said victim's face.  The enticing usually consists of something along the lines of, "Hey, can you pick that up for me?"

During the Cruz beach house vacation this past summer, Beanie received an incredible buttressing from me when I got him to bend over to pick up a big bowl of water balloons.  It was such a heinous act of buttressing that we all collectively agreed that the act of buttressing should be in the Geneva Convention, right next to waterboarding.

Fast forward to present day.  The "pull my finger" trick, although extremely childish, is very popular in our household.  Well, at least with the male members.  So CJ was sitting on the floor in his room.  As a test, I strategically placed my buttocks at the same level and in close proximity to his face.  My right cheek was literally three inches from his nose.  It should've been very obvious to CJ that he was in danger of blowing out his olfactory senses.  I offered him my index finger and said, "pull my finger."  Surely he wouldn't pull it.  That would be akin to jumping on a grenade.  Maybe he was disoriented or not fully awake.  Maybe he was in a mind-numbing hypnotic trance from watching too much TV.  Whatever the reason, he pulled my finger.  I couldn't believe what just happened.  He had buttressed himself!  BUTTRICIDE!  Totally unprecedented!  The outcome was atrocious.  The stench was amplified tenfold since it was at point blank range.  He could not escape the mushroom cloud of foul aroma that was now dispersing throughout the entire room.  Utter devastation.

Here's a reenactment of the buttricide.  This is right before the pulling of the finger.

The after effect

After we recovered from the massive amount of side-splitting laughter, I asked CJ why he did it.  Why did he pull my finger with my canned ham right in front of his face?  He had no good answer.  Just oblivious I guess.  I suspect that one day, maybe in the middle of the night when I'm half asleep and I least suspect it, my eldest son will exact his revenge on me.  I don't blame him if he's currently plotting.  It was a pretty inhumane act.  Until next time -- C2