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Our son recently had his sixth birthday. We gave him a road atlas.

Before you condemn us as poor gift-givers or parents who can’t relate to our kids, dig this – it was his favorite gift. He really wanted a new one, as his old copy was falling apart.

This was the day before Father’s Day, so after giving my child an atlas, I got Diddy Kong Racing. It plays on my Nintendo DS, which he gave me last Father’s Day – two days after receiving a calculator for his birthday. Freaky Friday, anyone?

The birthday boy – let’s call him “Doodlebug” – loved the atlas. A deluxe edition, it’s vastly superior to the old one.

“Words fail!” he exclaimed after unwrapping it. We think that means Doodlebug is pleased.

The deluxe version is spiral-bound with heavy pages, coated for easy cleaning. (You never know when a childish person might play with your atlas and get it dirty.) Doodlebug appreciates the added protection against the possibly dirty hands of his irresponsible two-year-old brother, Sugarbear.

Of course, the new atlas retains all the features he liked in the old one – mileage tables, alphanumeric grids, and population listings. Plus, it includes Canada and Mexico, a must for any would-be traveler of North America.

Not that Doodlebug is a big traveler; he’s been in only ten percent of the United States. He has grandparents in Virginia, so we go there occasionally. He has grandrodents in Disney World, so we go there frequently. Those drives account for four additional states; toss in his native stomping grounds and he’s been in five. He’s obsessed with the other 45 (also D.C. and Puerto Rico).

The only thing more traumatic than the first day of school is the first day of camp. Kindergarten offered experienced teachers and an established curriculum; camp offers teen-agers and water sports. A little too “Friday the 13th”, but I’m sure my son will be fine if he lasts through lunchtime without incident.

My microwave pizza has 21 seconds left when the phone rings.

“Mr. Bain, your son has a bead stuck up his nose.”

“I’m sorry – a bead?”

“For participation and character traits. Some kids put them on a string; yours put it up his nose. It’s a standard craft bead – 9mm.”

“Like the gun?”

“Just the bullet.”

“I feel much better.”

“Don’t panic; this happens frequently.”

“I’ll be right there.”

What wacky weather we have been having. It was cold, then warm, then cold, and then warm, and then cold. It was nice enough to warm up for part of the weekend last week. Then a cold snap came through to almost freeze us out of our house again. With a warm up on the horizon with another possible cool off next week, this is getting really annoying. I am all for different seasons, but it really should make up its mind which one it wants to be in! I am so looking forward to the sumer now.

Event precursors
My wife, Anne, and I are happily married and enjoy our lives together; after some discussion we decided to add to our family. Following a few heartbreaking miscarriages, we chose to adopt a child. Anne contacted multiple adoption agencies all over the country, some state-sponsored and some not; each had a website with photos and a brief description of children available. Most of Anne’s inquiries resulted in the children we found interesting no longer being available or some unlisted criteria had to be met for us to adopt the specified child.

Anne then had discussions via the Internet with several females of varying ages who claimed to be pregnant but unable to care for their unborn children adequately. After more time, sometimes weeks, in discussions with each, they all turned out to be fakes, phonies, frauds and liars. Not only were my wife and I angry, but we were also hurt because we had exposed ourselves to these manipulators! These impostors left us very distrusting of nearly each case we had later seen.