My son was sad and angry, and he wouldn't say why. But I find that, like his father, he'll talk in the car. He opened up, and this was how his day went:
"My pencil point broke." (long pause, deep sigh).
"So I had to sharpen it for like . . . like five minutes."
"And then it broke again."
Pause. I was sure he was getting to the real problem:
"Then . . . the eraser fell out. And it just felt like all these bad things would keep happening to me all day."