Night, sweetie. ttyl.

You'll see, shortly. Unless you are nothing more than an 'internet taunter.' Which would displease me to no end. I think you'll find my 'first dose' fair, honest, and not beyond reason. . .

Well, for once, it did work with me; I'll grant you that. Although I'm not sure you'll be entirely happy with the end result of your method . . . Heh heh heh . . .

Typically *neither* confirm nor deny, Mis. And I drew my conclusion the first time you poked me . . . now didn't I?

Well, at least you acknowledge one thing with proper decorum. I'm sure taking away your toys is very effective. Undefined limits are a good sign of an open mind. But, I must say, even though you don't deny having been naughty; you certainly haven't come out and admitted it and accepted the consequences . . . little miss water ballon. *smirks, and leans back*

Results vary according to the punisher, actually; there are more punishments in this Universe than spanking. . . or taking away games. It depends on the punisher's imagination and the punishee's limits . . . and I am surmising that "though my it's actually" should read "though for me it's actually." *raises eyebrows and folds arms*

You don't know me as well as you know your dad, as of yet; nor I, him, for that matter (and, for that matter, I don't operate on fear in a general sense). I would hope you learned about lying; lying is for scuzzbuckets. And whenever one is presented with a manichean choice with which one is uncomfortable, the obvious clever move is to demonstrate the truth one possesses by elucidating the actual position one is in. But I still note you don't deny naughtiness. Or the oh-so-deserving-of-punishment part. Very telling.

So you must be all aquiver with a shuddering bottom at this point; seeing as how you've been so obviously naughty as to not deny it yet in any substantive form . . . In other words, have you been "at all good" with me, or "not at all good?" Tell the truth, young lady . . . The truth may hurt, but lies hurt even more.

My, oh my. And even monitored you manage to get away with naughtiness. Tsk, tsk, tsk. And the importance of what parents think, like what anyone else thinks, is contingent on the value you place on it. Nothing more, ultimately. For example, I'm sure Pat Robertson would have a poor opinion of me; but, then again, I have nothing but contempt for him, so what does his lame-brained crazy opinion matter to me? Only the opinions of those one considers 'worthy' matters to one's self. And often, only until one recognizes the areas of ignorance of those one loves and respects. But that still isn't germaine to our discussion of this "good . . . most of the time" matter.

"Most of the time." That indicates over at least 50% of the time; generally 50.1% of the time in practical terms. Can you substantiate that? Quantify that? And even if you still live at home, so what? I almost hesitate to ask the next question. . .