Thomas woke up early this morning to go to the bathroom. He likes his sleep, and often on occasions like this he has one complaint or another; usually about how tired he is, or how the light is too bright. This morning, though, he had something else on his mind. He used his usual early-morning plaintive wail, but the words took me by surprise.
"I don't know what to do with my life."
Did I hear that right? He repeated it. Yes, that's what he said. I didn't know what to tell him. I certainly wasn't prepared for a statement like that before his third birthday.
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