I have a son named Bob

At the end of the day, our kids often congregate outside on the lawn.  When our kids are outside there is a magnetic force that pulls the neighbor kids near.  There are three new sets of neighbors in our cul-de-sac.  One of the neighbors is from Australia.  Emily and Jane already asked the little girl of the house if they sleep backwards since they are from the Land Down Under.  Another neighbor brought a kangaroo with them (I was convinced it had to be the Australians).   It wasn't.  The last neighbor doesn't have a kangaroo and isn't from Australia, but he does have a metal leg.  Maybe he isn't a war hero, but that's what I'm thinking.  Well, back to the child I didn't know I had. 

Alex knew that the Australian family has a son named Alex.  Well, yesterday evening a boy with a heavy accent was in our yard.  My Alex introduced himself to the boy as Bob to prevent confusion.  Really, why Bob?  Well, Fritz comes in the house at dinner time and says to my Alex, "I don't even know that boy."  The boy with the heavy accent wasn't "Alex".  He was the cousin of another neighbor and I bet he is over from England for the birthday bash of his eight-year-old American cousin.  It is all so confusing and comical at the same time.