Sunday mornings with kids feel like running a marathon in dress shoes. Between missing socks, syrup-covered toddlers, and the mad dash to church, it’s pure comedy mixed with a little bit of chaos.

But for me, the best part of the morning isn’t the perfectly timed arrival (spoiler: that rarely happens). It’s the 20-minute ride in my sports car with my 7-year-old. Just us. Worship music playing, windows down, and space for real conversation without a toddler hijacking every word.

That drive reminds me of my own childhood, when my dad — a mechanic — would take me to the auto parts store. We’d ride together, Beatles or Fleetwood Mac on the radio, sometimes classic Indian music, and every once in a while he’d slip in a life lesson I still carry today. Work hard. Stand up for yourself. Nothing in life is free. And when you find your life  ...