Lileks imprisons daughter 

Now I know James Lileks is a highly respected blogger but did he really write this?

Gnat was a pill today, but that's okay. She's ill. Small cold. The medicine makes her space out, and when it wears off she's just Miss Peevy 2003. Everything was a battle tonight: sitting in the chair, eating the corn, sampling the beans, saying "may I be excused" before she dismounts from her chair, getting into the bath, getting out of the bath, giving up her Spot (from Rolie Poly Olie, of course) plush doll so he can be dried out, getting into her jammies. I am always the Heavy here. When discipline is required, Daddy is enlisted. Why? I have the deep voice, and I have the will. I am careful to explain why she is being naughty; I always express my understanding of her position, but I am firm: this will not stand. Comply, or at the count of three you're locked in your room.

It's a microcosm of international events, really. She tests me: when first I introduce the possibility of consequences, she pretends to agree. But she doesn't comply. When I make a motion to enforce my decision, she complies - but it's always a dilatory effort. And this results in Stage Three, where I live up to my word. I hate doing that. I hate taking her up to her room and shutting the door; the cries of "I'll be good!" or "you're not my friend any more!" are like picador spears. But it has to be done.