He's what we in Texas would call a "knot head"

I know a little girl whose parents once read a parenting book. Potentially dangerous things, those books. In this book, parents were advised to never tell a child “no”, and to redirect a child when they were doing something they weren’t supposed to. Like, you don’t say, “No, don’t run into the street!” You say, “Oh, look at the bunny, that happens to be in the opposite direction of the street.” Okay, breathe. I know. I had the same first reaction. But let me assure you, that whatever you think this might lead to in behavior is, really, quite true. I would say that the term “demon seed” would be complete hyperbole. Yet, still quite evocative.

And somehow, I can’t seem to shake the feeling that this is exactly how the Barefoot Bandit was raised. If you haven’t been following the story, he’s the kid who escaped from juvenile detention (for a possession of stolen property bust), and proceeded to make his way across the country, stealing cars, boats and airplanes (yes, he apparently taught himself to fly), until he made it to the Caymans. His mother, on finding out he was being hunted in the Caymans, said it was lovely that he was getting to have an island vacation, and could someone please tell him to call home to mama.

Pretty much everything the kid stole was later recovered, except for some snack packs of chips and Gatorade, and he never really seemed to mean anyone any harm – to quote the Clash, he “Was a bankrobber / But he never hurt nobody / He just loved to live that way.” And since nobody was there to “redirect” him, “Hey, a plane! I bet the Caymans are lovely this time of year . . .” It seems to me that a parent’s primary job is to install the “no” in a kid’s head. Not a mean “no”. Not a soul squashing “no”. But definitely a “no” that would head off an interstate, international manhunt. That kind of “no”.