Last night, my 10-year-old (going on 16) son who thinks he know everything asked why we change the clocks in Kentucky.

Short answer? We pretend time is stretchy.

Twice a year, the entire Commonwealth, from Louisville to Lexington to that one uncle who still uses a flip phone, agrees to wake up either earlier or later because Congress said so back in 1918.

That’s when Daylight Saving Time was introduced during World War I to “save energy.”

Which sounds heroic… until you realize we now have LED lights, smartphones, and Energy Star refrigerators that text you when you’re out of milk. Really, this does exist.

Here in Kentucky, this means in March we all lose an hour of sleep and pretend we’re fine.

Farmers don’t like it. Parents don’t like it. Dogs definitely don’t like it. The cows are standing in the pasture thinking, “Y’all moved the sun again?”

In November, we “fall back,” which sounds cozy but really just means it gets dark at 5:15 p.m. and we all start questioning our life choices before dinner.

The weirdest part? It doesn’t actually save much energy anymore.

Some articles online show the savings are tiny, like “found a quarter in the couch” tiny.

Meanwhile, car accidents tick up. Heart attacks bump up. Everyone’s cranky.

And Kentucky already has enough to argue about. We do not need to fight the clock too.

So if you ask me, son, here’s the contrarian take: If God wanted it lighter in the morning, He’d have moved the sun Himself.

Let’s pick a time. Stick with it. Let the sun rise when it rises.

Let the bourbon pour when it pours. And let a man wake up without wondering what time it really is.

Because time shouldn’t be something we lasso twice a year. It’s Kentucky.

We don’t need to save daylight. We’ve got plenty.

Rant over. Carry on!