For many years now, 12-year-old grandson Jack has been willing to follow most of my suggestions. He is always eager to see the "Schedule" so that he can know what to expect on the Wednesday afternoons we usually spend together. Sometimes he wants to make some change, to have his apple before, instead of after, his riding session. Or he may question why Auntie Lee's house isn't on the docket. Just writing down the expectation was usually all it took for him to be willing to go along with it. No longer. Last week, he barked "pencil" as soon as he had read the item "Play outside until Mummy gets home." He was willing to use more words, and include a "please," but he would not negotiate the heavy line he drew through the unwanted item. "No outside!" It was not a fight I chose to engage it right then. This week it got physical. We went to Shaw's to pick up a few items and I was at first pleasantly surprised at how smoothly things were going. Jack carried the basket, and helped pick out the exact number of items we had on our list. He accepted that there were to be no strawberries because they weren't on the list. He waited patiently for our number to be called at the deli counter. But after a short wait in the cash register line, he started wandering and calling out "Pink Ball." I said we'd do pink ball after we paid, and he showed me the display of rubber balls at the other end of the store. He didn't just show me, he grabbed one and said "Take home." I gave him the standard answers and explanations, which have been accepted in the past, not immediately maybe, but eventually. This time he switched to wanting to go to the bathroom. A Shaw's bathroom is out of the question, as he needs supervision, and the pair of us is welcome in neither the men's or women's room. With the suggestion that we go home to the bathroom, he went back to demanding, at full volume, the pink ball AND the bathroom. Then he moved to the water fountain, which was a relief, but did not last long. I'm not new to these behaviors but what is new is that Jack is now so big and strong that I cannot gently lead him to another activity, or take his hand and pull him toward the door while I describe the delights of apples and music waiting in the car. I am trying to be grateful that he is strong and healthy. I am trying to remember that his mother is having the same problems, since he is stronger than she is, now, too. I am trying to remember that he is reaching adolescence and wants control of his own actions as every growing child does. But I am not looking forward to more screaming in public places, or wrestling as a last resort! Surely there are other grandmothers out there who have lived through this. Just let me hear from you!