Let’s get this part settled first: I don’t make friends, nor can I handle responsibility in relationships. Never could. Just ask any of my children, they’ll tell you. Although they are fully grown now, all past 30 and quite successful, they grew up like weeds in a garden. Strong, wild, resilient and with little supervision from their workaholic father. I have to face the fact that there are some things I’m good at—being responsible for another living creature is not one of them. So it should be easy to guess my reaction when my wife, Cathy, told me a few...