When my kids were little, I had a three-times rule: if I had to repeat myself twice, my voice changed on the third. It got louder, sharper, and sounded a lot like my father’s. There was no specific reason for my reaction. It could be a missed bedtime, late for school, clean up your room. If it is something I wanted done, and it wasn’t being done, then that was a problem. My kid finally would do it, with a lowered head and no smile. That would follow me for the balance of the