We are sitting at home eating duck wrapped in lettuce with rice and ko-chu jang. Lucy will not come to the table. She sits in the living room reading her books, and crying for us to come read them with her.

"You don't have to come eat Lucy, but we are eating now. We'll read to you when we are finished." I say.

"Read now!" she says back to me.

"Lucy. You don't tell your mother and I what to do." I scold, "You can wait."

Lucy comes towards me with her hand raised, then swings it in the air in front of me.

"Are you going to hit me, Lucy?" I ask.

"I no hit."

"I hope not Lucy. You know what happens to little girls that hit."

"I no hit."

"Kim Jang-il eats them."

"I no hit, Daddy."

"Good. Then sit up here and eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"Do you want to be sent to North Korea? If you aren't going to eat, we may as well just send you there." I threaten.

Some people feel one should not threaten a child-- that there are enough scary things in the world that we don't have to manufacture them just to keep children in line. They claim that it is less effective then patiently explaining to a child why they should eat. They claim that one should raise a child with thought and understanding rather than fear and retribution.

But can this be true?  Would I have gone to bed on time, and got the sleep a child needs, if my mother hadn't told me going to bed late causes cancer? Would I have done my homework if it were not for the dirty needle she kept in her room that she claimed she got from a leper? I don't think so.