My oldest grandson, Ryan, was born in 1995. He was really a GOOD kid, but, like all kids, he had his moments. When he was about 2 he wound up with a softball. I could see him start to throw it in the house and I stopped him. He stopped, but he really, REALLY, REALLY wanted to throw that ball! He wanted to throw it so bad it hurt! I could see him just trembling with the urge to throw it, so I started approaching him slowly, carefully, like I would approach a wild animal I didn’t want to startle. Before I got there he suddenly spun around three times and just let fly! It bounced off the back of the couch and came back and nailed him smack in the forehead! Knocked him down! Poor kid. He’s crying and Gramma is just laughing. 😦 I finally brought my laughing under control because it isn’t nice to laugh at little kids when they’re hurt.
I said, “Ryan…I TOLD you not to throw that ball. From now on it would be best for you if you do what I tell you.” (Goes away to laugh some more!)