When I speak to parents of teenagers and college students, they often grow a little weepy describing the moment that their children stopped coming to them daily or even weekly for advice or to ask big, cosmic questions. I get sad talking to them about it too. Like many of you, I imagine, I love nothing more than the look in my child’s eyes when she’s puzzling through an everyday mystery that’s just out of her grasp and comes to me because she knows I’ll stop everything to answer her question. Providing an explanation seems not just an act of teaching but one of protection. I don’t ever want it
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