Yesterday, a scant five days before his third birthday, my son made a first fateful step that can only lead to a life of elbow-patched tweed jackets, gently used Volvo wagons, and NPR tote bags. ewwwww. Me, to my wife: There’s a mosquito the room. My son, to me: I don’t yike mosquitoes. Me, to my son: I don’t like them either. They bite. My son, to me: I don’t yike mosquito bite. Me, to my son: I’m going to...