Okay.. that one was on him. The drum beat slows to a stop, sticks eventually finding their home back at rest on the surface of a snare. "You're right.. I'm sorry. I don't know how to do that myself, actually."

Being the age he is, he shouldn't. "We'll figure it out though.. right? How hard can it be? Tons of dysfunctional people do it every day. Why can't.. we?" Hopefully that's comforting, at least as comforting as it can be, but he realizes it might miss the mark.