Things got better for Aaron after our talk, as today's section of the book was about Rita and her big breasts that managed to brush against a character's arm. Planning took on new meaning. And I lost the will to insist. I handed Aaron a poem by Emily Dickinson. After my reading, he promptly tossed it on the table, without comment, and refused the candy.
Nothing works forever.
In other classes I have students who ask, halfway through class, if they can read a second poem for more candy. At this point, the candy is really for me - a pick me up for all those times they mutter about what a waste of time this class is. I've refrained partly out of respect for whatever feelings they may hide under the long stringy hair, earrings, and Way Too Big pants, and partly because it frustrates me to hear their plans for the future. I'm going to work at one of the local nurseries. You earn two hundred a week and get laid off all winter.