I know my column is from my personal perspective, and often about my personal life. Yet I feel this topic is more confessional than many others and affects me too often. I take things too personally. Having this deficiency is truly toxic when you are raising kids or beginning a new marriage, both of which define my present state of affairs.

Let’s give some examples and see how many of you relate to them. Easy ones are when ShortRib (my wife) isn’t smiling, isn’t talking much, or doesn’t respond quickly to an e-mail, or text of mine. I always assume that it’s my fault or something I’ve done.

Perspective is something that allows us to appreciate our lives, our families, and our country. Lately, with so much bad news surrounding us, and after just returning from Africa where such extreme poverty exists everywhere, I find myself reflecting on one of those “People” magazine-type stories about someone living through a life threatening experience and coming out a changed person. It’s a story I’ve shared with my boys, when they were upset about a trivial matter, as it happened to me.

Driving alone on 395, I fell asleep at the wheel. In the middle of nowhere with only my dog as company, and the cruise control set in the low 70s, I drifted off to sleep as the sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon, in spite of a Monster drink (Red Bull equivalent) and in spite of stopping several times to stretch and do some jumping jacks. Lost in thought, I just slipped away to “Neverland.” Well, “Neverland” almost became just that; never more.

First, a disclaimer. It seems the reactions to my families’ nicknames has been mixed from readers. I respect my readers and I also got the same feedback from a new friend, via this column, in Australia. Isn’t the Internet amazing? So, hereafter, I will dispense with the nicknames. My wife is Loren, my older son is Will, and my younger one is David. And, I love them dearly.

I’m sure you catch just a little sarcasm in the title of today’s column. Patience has and is my biggest personal struggle. With me, with others, with the world at large. You’d think that having kids would moderate that poor characteristic. And, I suppose, to some degree it has. But, in general, this is my Achilles heel.