Bonehead

My son has taken an interest in the Presidents of the United States of America.

No, not that band, but the actual guys who served in the Oval Office.

His school did a lesson about the presidents last month and my boy has, of all things, a plastic placemat, displaying all the photos, names and basic facts about them.

One night, he studied the placemat, pointing to random photos to ask their names. My husband patiently answered.

The last face he pointed to is the person Garrison Keillor refers to as the Current Occupant. To which my husband named, "Bonehead." I shot my husband a look of horror but my Darling Husband - ever the tree-hugging, long-haired, vegetarian environmentalist - smiled to himself, enjoying this little joke.

A few days later, though, one of my boy's teachers relayed the day's funny school story. During a lesson about the presidents, my son proudly proclaimed that he remembered the name of the Current Occupant.

"Bonehead!" he volunteered.

The only thing I'm thankful for is that the teacher involved is liberal enough, and had a decent sense of humor about the little bit of misinformation.

Feeling uninvited

My husband and I celebrated our sixth wedding anniversary in our own quiet homely way. An exchange of presents. Gathering with close family. And a nice dinner out.

It seems hard to believe that I've been married for six years. It's gone by quickly.

The odd experience of the day was how my son reacted to our wedding anniversary, or more specifically, to our wedding album. My mother-in-law requested the album to reminisce about our glorious day under the oak.

He intently studied each photo for familiar faces - Mommy, Daddy, his grandparents, his aunts, his cousins, our close friends. But he gradually got upset when he didn't see his own face.

"Where am I" said the pouty little face. "Why didn't I come?"

It was hard to explain that he arrived as a result of our marriage. We tried but it didn't register with the 4 year old, who ended up melting in my arms, a puddle of tears.