The day I realized I want my son to be better than me.

I was sitting on the lip of my 8-year-old’s bed. It was after 8:00 p.m., and he wouldn’t look at me. His face was buried in the pillow. I’d sent him to bed without dinner, and honestly, I think this was the first time I’d ever done something like that. Not that he’d never been punished, he had. I’d simply never had to make him go without a meal before.

H…