The backyard was a literal playground.

The yard was huge, with a lush green lawn and two large oak trees that were probably a couple of hundred years old.

There was a bouncy house in one corner with several children inside, bouncing around.

No doubt, surfing a sugar hive thanks to all the goodies placed on decorated tables around the yard.

There was a magician with six enthralled kids staring rapidly up at him as he did something

with two metal rings. There were also two inflatable slides, a miniature ball pit, a small

petting zoo, and pretty much every toy a kid could ever want. There were kids running around everywhere,

and groups of parents standing around talking with drinks in their hands. As I stepped out of the house,

or mansion, I should say, and into the backyard, I looked down at my son. Anthony's eyes were

wide, glancing around at the vast wonderland.

He looked up at me, the need visible on his face.

Put the gift on the table, I said, pointing to a large table overflowing with wrapped presents.

Then find Todd and tell him happy birthday. Then you can play. He smiled and darted off without a word,

heading for the bouncy castle, detouring to toss the present, a Star Wars Lego set on the gift

table. I stood there awkwardly for a second, out of my element, before a small man with gold-rimmed

glasses, khaki shorts, and an immaculate

pink polo shirt came up and slapped me on the back.

Let me guess, he said.

You're Anthony's dad?

Guilty, I replied back.

This guy had to be the owner of the house, I thought to myself.

Name's Tony. Senior, obviously. Richard Shelby, he said, switching his glass containing what

...