Dora loves her father. It is late and she climbs into his lap to snuggle. Encouraged by her efforts he wraps his arms around her slim figure and nuzzles her close. She draws back quickly in surprise; eyes wide.
“Are you okay?” he queries in concern. “Did I get you with my beard?”
“It’s okay,” she replies. The momentary shock has passed and she ponders the experience. “You’re spikes are really scratchy…. kind of like booby traps.”
Clearly the face of someone who knows all about booby traps.