We’d both seen the ad for the bed of nails. “Another thing to try to relax you,” I said, thinking of the probiotics and the massage guns and the neurofeedback device that sits like a crown on his head. Where does it all end? I looked at my beautiful, high-strung boy, who’s equally triggered by love and traffic. “Sold,” I told him. “I’m just going to relax you until you’re dead.”