Is there a limit to your patience, is your patience a limited resource?
At any given moment, there’s a limit to my patience. But it’s a renewable resource. Sleep can create it as can happy experiences.
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I play it nearly every day on my phone or tablet
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Endless with inanimate objects, no so with people Spitty…
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…and none at all whatsoever with Bots
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There was one area I had to learn to be patient
I cannot abide clumsy people, unco-ordinated people who bump into things, drop things or are cack handed do crafts, making things or just in general. They drive me nuts
And it turns out my oldest son has been like that all his life!
I had to bite my tongue and be kind, encourage him, do activities that helped him, build his confidence and for the most part I did
But he still remembers the day he knocked a whole glass bottle of Ribena off the counter and it smashed into a million pieces with the kitchen looking like a motorway accident
And I swore. Not at him, I would never have done that. But he still remembers it 
He never really got over being clumsy, he’s the only person I know who can walk into a room and bump into the door frame that’s been there for 25 years of his life………
I wanted to be a DR but didn’t have the patients for it
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I have to be very patient with my Daughter, she has got a thing that if the Wife or I slurp, yawn, sniff, it really winds her up, we have learnt to ignore her on such occasions, bit like the parents of kids with tourettes have to. 
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Theres some great answers to this question ,made me laugh .
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A patient went to the DR saying he was constipated so the DR gave him huge tablets to take 3 a day for 2 weeks and put them up the back passasge. Two weeks later the guy was back at the DR’s and the Dr asked if the tablets worked? "no"said the man “Now i can’t even open my back gate”
I am patient (usually) with people, but have no patience whatsoever with inanimate objects. I once famously threw my twin tub washing machine out the back door because it wouldn’t empty. My mum, who’d been staying with us at the time, had already slunk out the room while I was kicking the darn thing and swearing at it.
She’d opened the front door to put something in the bin down the side path, when this cascade of water starting swirling towards her from the back door - I’ll never forget the look on her face when she came back indoors and tentatively approached me and said ‘are you OK dear?’ And I said, with a big grin, ‘yes, I’m absolutely fine now. Shall I put the kettle on?’ 