I had to go to the local Doc-in-a-Box this morning, and a young man – maybe 12 or so – was trying his best to get his mother to flip him across the room.
First, he refused to sit in a chair, but insisted on squatting on the floor, halfway leaning against the door. Because the door opened out, and he had his back to it, he couldn’t see who was coming in.
The second time, he ended up sprawling on the floor and nearly tripped an elderly woman. Fortunately, Mom was able to grab the lady’s elbow, so no real harm done, but she grabbed the kid by the collar and plopped him in the chair, with one off those “I dare you to move” looks moms do so well. She noticed a quarter on the floor, and told him to pick it up, but was met with shoulder-shrugs and baleful looks.
His younger sister leaned over, picked it up, and stuck it in her pocket. He immediately started pawing at her, insisting the money belonged to him. “How so?”
“I was the one who dropped it.”
“So you dropped it, but couldn’t be bothered to pick it up?”
Mumble. “Yeah.”
“Seems to me you didn’t want it very much.”
We have a friend who has often said the boys should be nailed into a barrel when they turn twelve or so, and fed though the bung until they turn 18, at which point you can either open the barrel, or drive in the bung.
thisendoftheswamp 
A Game of Thrones character fled the country similarly; it was a bit messy since not only food passed through that hole. I rather like the approach that the father of Apolo Ohno had used. He stuck his son alone in a cabin in the woods until his son matured enough to say he was ready to continue speed skating.
Peg, bless you, you have written this to the only people in the Northern Hemisphere who have never seen either movie!
Yeah . . . I always thought God messed up when he didn’t design boys to cocoon up from 12 until about 22, emerging much changed.