This could happen after all, and if it did, he would remain my son, and fathers, it seems to me, owe their teenage sons endurance of this particular difference regardless of the love— its quality and intensity—that binds them. In fact, we can easily imagine circumstances in which my obligations toward my son are determined neither by my parental status, nor by the love that binds us. Other roles and relationships will make that determination. Suppose I coach my son’s baseball team, and suppose the boys are doing what they know they should not—tossing water bottles at each other in the dugout. The hour is late. The day is hot. The game is already lost. So I endure this behavior with patience. And note, I tolerate my son5s participation in it, not because he is my son and deserves this endurance from me, his father, and not because he is my beloved and this is what love offers or its norms require. Rather, if I am truly tolerant, if I treat him justly, then I will endure him as I do the others: because I am the coach, because they are my players, and because on this day, in this moment, their rambunctiousness deserves this patient endurance from me.