“I’m tired,” my son, Dave, told me.
He was driving back from Cincinnati again after another long day.
“You’re too young to get tired,” I responded.
I’m sure he found about as much comfort in my words as I did when I, at about his age, told my dad I was tired.
“Oh, well,” Dad nonchalantly said, “you’re young, you’ll get over it.”
But I wouldn’t get over it simply because I was young, and neither will Dave.