The single best parenting lesson I ever received was through an interaction with my dad when I was 12. I’d tried out for this baseball all star team. The coaches called to say they were taking 16 players and I was the 17th on the list. I didn't make it. I was devastated. It was my first real experience with a failure. I went to my room crying. My dad walked into my room and sat next to me. He said: "I know you're upset. I get it. But here are the three things the coaches said you needed to work on. Let's go out every day this summer and work on them together." And we did. He took me out to the local field damn near every single day that summer. He’d get home from a long day of work and I’d be waiting with a bucket of balls, bat, and glove. We’d play until it was too dark to see. At the time, I didn’t think anything of it. Now, as a parent myself, I realize the energy it required for him to come home and do that, day after day. I came back the next year a completely different player. Years later, when I got a scholarship to play at Stanford, I still thought back to that summer as the turning point. It took me having my own son to realize the parenting lesson in all of this. My dad had two options in that moment: 1. Tell me the coaches were idiots. They were wrong. They made a mistake. I was the best player. 2. Acknowledge my disappointment. Reframe it as a growth opportunity. Support me to go after it. It would have been easier to choose Option 1. I would have been happier to hear it. But it would have had a lasting negative impact on my life. There was a big difference between what I wanted to hear and what I needed to hear. My dad subtly reframed that failure as an opportunity. Then he showed up to help me capitalize on it. He handed me my agency in that moment and made sure I never let it go. I'll never forget that. Today is his 71st birthday. I couldn’t be more grateful for the life and legacy he’s created. Happy Birthday, Dad. I love you.