On hoisting, and petards

From Laid-Off Dad. I wish I had written this:

On hoisting, and petards

One of the great modern conveniences of this or any century is the Daddyvator™, which allows the more diminutive among us to demand a greater vantage point of the world around them. It's a simple device; the child pushes a button on Daddy's knee, and that child is slowly hoisted up to Daddy's eye level. Once aloft, the child has several options, including:

• reaching and/or whining for things that have been stashed out of his sightline!
  
• gumming up and/or crushing Daddy's glasses!
  
• voiding his nose and/or mouth on Daddy's collarbone!
  
• offering up his soft, warm neck for kisses and/or abundant zerbiting!
  
• and/or so much more!

When the child wants to return to Earth, he pushes the button on Daddy's nose and is slowly lowered.

This is all very charming until the child ages into a forceful Toddlesaurus, unaware of his burgeoning strength. At this point, he greets you at the door by slamming an implement -- usually one of his brother's phony power tools -- into Daddy's gimpy kneecaps. And once in the crook of Daddy's arm, he demands release by punching Daddy, full force, in the schnoz.

Then Daddy gets to wipe the tears from his eyes, knowing he has taught his child well.