There could be some overlap, Betsy. But I still wouldn't break out the stakes yet.

this is just a 12-year-old boy. NOT A DEMON FROM HELL.

I'm not sure this isn't the same thing. I am trying to decide if it is worth my time to let the kids ( mostly 9 to 13 year old boys) that come into the library everyday to play games, that the hammer is coming down. It won't be just one day out, but longer , because they are takeing away from people that need/want out help. I have no idea if they will hear me.

ETA: I actually like most of these kids.

Betsy, he's twelve. He's old enough for you to say, "Dude, you want so much as a lick of help from me, here is what you will do.... You wanna go it alone, you are quite capable so have at it. You get lower than a C on the project or you don't have it done on time, and you are grounded for ____." At least, that's how I would handle it. The science project I did in sixth grade? It never occurred to me to ask for help from my parents. I may have asked for permission to raid the cupboards for the glass jar I needed to make my homemade barometer, however. I have AD/HD - so some parental guidance with big projects would have been marvellous. Except that it never occurred to them that there was anything wrong with me, as I was just like them. I do wonder what would have happened if I had asked for help.

On a different note, for the cat-owned among us may be interested in this link to request a free sample of Feline Greenies, a crunchy treat designed to clean teeth and freshen breath. I got some for my cats, who promptly went bonkers over them. [link]

One of the things that I learned in psychology is that our mind has a template for many different things, and so even from the beginning our memories are often colored by the way we think such things are "suppose" to be.

One of the interesting side effects of this is that thing that happens where you go to a new city and you keep thinking you see people you know, a second before realizing that of course it's not them. Because the brain is trying to do pattern matching - rather than comparing thousands of data points making up a face, it grabs some lesser number and makes a leap to what it already has stored.

Thanks for the link Windy, I got a sample for my cat and for Mom's cat.

The library had their annual booksale today. I didn't get there as early as I liked but that's okay they were still putting out books. They have way more books than they have space, dirt cheap , but there was some confusion over the paperbacks, once I realized that the Norton Anthologies were $1 I went back to get more but there weren't many left, I ended up with 3.

I ended up buying a lot of YA books (they were a quarter)...including several Sweet Valley high books -- including Dear Sister where Elizabeth goes into a coma after being in an accident and wakes up acting "Bad" and goes over to a boy's house and it looks like she might be really sinful and have sex but she slips and falls and gets her memory back. And Kidnapped! where, Elizabeth gets kidnapped by an escaped insane prisoner, this is only about 6 books after Dear Sister. Plus I got some other YA Romances. And some cookbooks from the 60s.

He's old enough for you to say,

Well, sometimes they are, sometimes they aren't. I know there were times, twelve and after, where if my mother hadn't been riding me, I probably wouldn't have gotten it done. I did eventually get the hang of it, but different kids, different, uh, strokes?

I just found this website for a company called SweetSpotLabs [link] (be warned it's very pink! And their logo is a slightly tilted pink triangle). They make grooming products for a woman's "sweet spot", or as they sometimes call it "her heart of procreation". Wipettes, mists, washes. Or you can buy it altogether in a Hormone Harmony package to help with your "self-loving ritual."

For $33 your "sweet spot" can smell like basil grapefruit.

I've pumped gas, gotten back into my car, looked in my side view mirror and I don't remember putting my gas cap back on. And yet, when I double check the mirror, the gas cap is magically on.

I do this all the time while writing email. I send the message and think back on it, think "crap, I didn't even finish that sentence" or "crap, I didn't edit out that comment I didn't really want to say but just typed out for the catharsis", look at the sent message, and see that all sentences are finished and all cathartic comments have been removed. But I have no memory whatsoever of doing it.

Brenda! Get off Raq's butt, she has plans for it!

No, no, it's okay, it's big enough so that there's plenty of room.

One of the interesting side effects of this is that thing that happens where you go to a new city and you keep thinking you see people you know, a second before realizing that of course it's not them. Because the brain is trying to do pattern matching - rather than comparing thousands of data points making up a face, it grabs some lesser number and makes a leap to what it already has stored.

Huh. I always wondered why this happens. Drives me bonkers when it does.

My memory is gloriously crappy though, even when I'm not on drugs. Maybe especially when I'm not on drugs. In fact, who are you people?

You get lower than a C on the project or you don't have it done on time, and you are grounded for ____."

Kid already got straight F's at midterm report and is already grounded. Not thinking that will help much.

Right now, he needs to be stood over or it's not happening at all, and consequences don't help one little bit.