Both of my grandsons were at work with their mother and I. Both of them were wound up, kicking balls, throwing balls, running, laughing. We hated to stop their fun, but well, it was getting a little out of hand. We gathered all the balls, we encouraged them to play something else. That actually went better than you would think. Later in the day, Tyler spots a golf ball on my desk. In a perfect, organized world, you would not have a random golf ball on your desk, but that is obviously not my world. Tyler asks for the golf ball. The conversation goes like this. Tyler: Gramma Cathy, can I pullease have that golf ball? (notice how when pleading, please becomes two syllables.) Me: Promise me that you will not throw the golf ball. Tyler: I promise that I will not throw the golf ball. Me: Promise me that you will not kick the golf ball. Tyler: I promise that I will not kick the golf ball. Me: If I see you kicking or throwing the golf ball, I can take it off of you. Tyler: If you...