I had had dropped our youngest son, Joe off at St. Pat’s, I was driving Clint to St. Francis High School, lane switching constantly to get an edge on time. After hopping ahead of a few drivers, and under much self-induced stress to gain this perceived edge over the other drivers, the light ahead showed red. I dutifully stopped, and began to question the “light sequences” that the traffic experts had developed. Finally, after my multiple tirades of disgust, impolite driving, and under the breath obscenities, Clint spoke to me. “You waste so much energy on things you have no control over.”

Clint was in 9th grade, and he had just displayed more wisdom than I. I looked in my mirror, and the cars I had just passed had all caught up. I wish I had spent that time in fruitful conversation with my son, but I had more important tasks to conquer that day. Too bad I did not possess Clint’s patience.