The Little Prince

Last night I was reading The Little Prince to my oldest son and when The Little Prince died I started crying.

"Why are you crying, dad?"

"I think you know. Don't you?"

"Because of the story?"

"Yes. What do you think it means?"

"You can't rely on anyone."

"That's right," I said.

I was so proud of him that I took him out for ice cream. Then I got drunk while he was eating his ice cream and I made him drive home.

But I can't drive a stick, he kept saying. Just shut up and drive, sweetie, this is your big day.