My father knew not only knew how to push all my buttons but he knew how to jerk my chain. He loved me beating up on him when he embarrassed me but I knew when to stop when he gave me a certain look. Sometimes though mother and nurse Wilson would have to intervene.
I was three. My twin brother had rheumatic fever and the doctor recommended regular enemas which were of course always preceded by rectal thermometer readings. Daddy made strong hints that I should get one too and finally persuaded Nurse Wilson to give me one over mother's strenuous objections. I must have made a very strong impression on him with my bawling and howling and punching and kicking him until restrained by mother and Nurse Wilson because from then on I got thermometer readings both fore and aft right along with Gino.
What daddy loved was to have mother give me a rectal thermometer reading while we had guests who sooner or later would want to use the bathroom. They had to pass Gino's and my bedroom and guess what they saw walking down the hall? Right. Me on the bed perched up on pillows on my side with my bare butt sticking up out above my lowered BVD's and a rectal thermometer sticking out of my rear end. Talk about em-bare-assed! ???