In my work I travel constantly. On American Airlines alone, I have more than 9 million frequent-flier miles. I always put off going to the airport until the last second. The time I really screwed up I was racing to the San Diego airport to catch a flight to New York. My wife, Lyda, was sitting next to me in the front seat. My kids, Bryan and Kelly, were in the back. I was frantically racing along and not paying much attention. Lyda cried out: “Look out! There is a red light up ahead.”

 

　　Being a trained behavioral science professional—who teaches others the value of encouraging input—I naturally screamed at her:“I know there is a red light up ahead! Don’t you think I can see? I drive as well as you can.”When we arrived at the airport, Lyda, a licensed clinical psychologist with a PhD, abandoned her usual farewell ministrations for some reason. Not only did she fail to kiss me good-bye, she didn’t even speak to me. As she walked around the car, slid behind the wheel, and drove off, both kids gave me that my-dad-is-an-idiot look.

 

　　“Hmm,” I pondered, “I wonder why she seems mad at me?”