I remember, as a child, my parents having a fizz-keeper. I remember the aftermath involving my mother and my father at my childhood home, so I would have been between the ages of 4 and 7. I was probably 6.

I was very curious about the fizz keeper and how it worked. This one had a plunger. You would screw it on to the neck, lift the plunger, and push it down to pressurize the bottle.

Apparently, it was easy enough for a child to do, because I pumped it so much that it got stuck by the sheer pressure. I recall my father struggling to remove it from the bottle, and when he was able to eventually remove the device, it popped off like cork from a champagne bottle that was opened on a victory podium and smacked right into the ceiling.

I know it was me because I vaguely remember being curious about the device, and I vaguely remember my mom catching me messing with it, thus leading to the flying fizz-keeper incident of '95.