I'm going to concede that I've only been at this parenting thing for a year, and my stepdaughters (aged 13 and 15) are more interested in Chris Brown v. The Jonas Brothers than they are in Barack Obama v. John McCain.

So I have to wonder whether anyone could really be persuaded by their offspring to vote for or against a particular candidate.

I mean, I think of all that goes into parenting, particularly the sustained, 18-plus-year effort to instill your values in your children, only to have them travel halfway across the state, country or world to tell you that they have decided how you should vote.

Like I don't hear enough from TV commercials and Saturday Night Live; now I have to worry that my kids are going to grow up to tell me to vote Democrat. Or Republican. Or Libertarian. Or whatever.

I just wonder whether some McCain-supporting grandparents are just aching for their children's children to "schlep" on over to tell them to vote for Obama.

Let's remove the candidate names from this: You support candidate A. You grandchild pays you a visit to tell you he knows better; you should vote for candidate B.

How likely are you to listen?

Today was a momentous day in my son's life: he went under the knife and got both his tonsils and adenoids removed. Why? Because his tonsils had become infected and swollen and a source of infection in his body, making him have a never-ending level of ill health.

Me, I also had my tonsils removed when I was 8, and have almost no memories of it other than how cool it was to be in a hospital, have new books to read (and, doubtless, some comic books too) and be able to eat as much ice cream and drink as much soda as I wanted. Nice! Pain? Drugs? No memories of that stuff. Probably just as well.

Atlanta's gas crisis appears to be over, but for some reason I am fearful that our South Florida stations also will run out of gas.

Every time I pass the cheapest gas station near my house now, I fill up, even if I only need a quarter of a tank.

Metro Atlanta stations ran out of gas after Hurricane Ike late last month. Experts said the pipeline that brings gas to "the Southeast" (not sure why it didn't affect us here) got disrupted. So Atlanta stations started placing limits on how much gas you could buy. Many ran out of gas and didn't get refills for days, creating miles-long lines at stations that did have gas.

My state of panic is not helped by my gas-guzzling minivan. It means I have to top off my car every three or four days! Please help me calm down and allay my fears that we will always have plenty of gas in South Florida (ha!).

If you bamboozle an elderly person, you get arrested. If you fool a little kid, well that's just funny.

I guess that's what one of the helpers at Lily's school after care was thinking when he tricked her about what his name is.

"Goodbye, Anonymous!'' Lily shouted to him as we left the school.

"What? Lily, his name is not Anonymous,'' I instructed her outside.

"Yes it is, Mom. He told me that before. He would never lie to a first-grader!'' she replied.

I told her that didn't sound like a name. She told me some people have different names.

For example, she pointed out accurately, she has a classmate named Precious.

True. But when we got home, I relayed the story, including identifying the teacher whose helper/son is named "Anonymous.''

"Oh,'' Creed immediately replied, "Kendall?''

Mystery solved.

My son kicked me in the face the other day.

Oh my God, it's really happening, isn't it? The baby's due in February, and we found out a month ago that it's a boy. We're getting advice from all corners. "Read to him." We hear that one a lot. Apparently, about this time, the kid's ears start working, so you want him to get used to your voice. He'll hear his mom's voice all the time, but mine, not so much.

I've been talking to him for weeks, of course, lying with my cheek where I think he might be. I tell him about my days, about our three cats, about his two sisters...

Whack! I mean, Chuck Norris doesn't give the kind of roundhouse kick in the face that this kid gave me. I was startled. I looked up at my wife.

"Was that...?"

She nodded, smiling.

"Oh my God, he kicked me!"

We picked up a bunch of children's books from grandma and grandpa last night. Lots of Dr. Seuss. A couple of Peanuts compilations. "Black Beauty." "Little House."

Last night, I lay there and read to him. "Oh, the Places You'll Go."

"That was him," my wife said.

As eager as I am to feel it again, I had to admit that this time, I didn't. Maybe next time.

I'm still trying to make sure he gets used to my voice. And every time I talk to him, I end it the same way.

"I can't wait to see you."