Book hunting...

Mamma is on education overdrive with the kind of manic frenzy that necessitates that had she got her way with the brat, he would be holding the roll that declared him a genuine holder of a doctorate, with the Dr. to go with it. But the brat, being the brat has other plans.
Since the current theme of the month at school is countries of the world, their currency, their capital cities, their customs and cultures, their languages, their landmarks and monuments, and such like which necessitates long arduous trips to learn from that eternal font of free wisdom, aka Google baba, Mamma has been on a hunt for a decent Atlas cum encyclopedia, cum picture book, with enough sight words contained within to tweak the brat's interest. So far, her success ratio has been zero. The ones available at the couple of bookstores she has been to are a) too grown up with too much text and too few pictures. And b) too map heavy.
Or maybe she hasnt looked hard enough, keeping in mind that she generally asks the driver to keep the engine running as she scoots into the stores and scoots out again, squeezing in them store visits in the five minutes extra she gives herself between leaving office and picking up the brat.
Any suggestions of titles would be welcome. A kind soul has suggested the Usborne Children's Picture Atlas which she is planning to go hunt down in the next couple of days, till then the mode of imparting knowledge about them countries of the world is through beautifully woven stories that have Pappa listening goggle eyed in the dark, and which have a wonderfully soporific effect on the brat and send him off without a squeak of protest into noddy land.
Last night Mamma outdid herself. She began with the story of Jean Claude, who was five years old and lived in the vineyards in Provence, from whence a wine of magical powers was distilled, and whoever drank the wine could go wherever they wanted to, so the little chump downed a bit and wanted to go see the big city aka Paris, (dont nobody come down on Mamma for encouraging underage drinking, in France kids sip wine in their milk bottles, or so I am given to understand. Okay, maybe in their sippy cups. Or whatever. You get my drift) and lands in Paris on top of the Eiffel tower.
The brat was not interested in Mamma's magic realism and concentrated on the nitty gritties, did Jean Claude swing from the Eiffel tower like Spiderman. No? Did he beat up a Goblin in Paris? No. Blah blech. Not nice story. Tell me about Ben 10.
Today Mamma's going to spin a tale about Mahfouz the camel driver in the sands of Egypt. And she's going to weave in Cairo and mummies, and the Pyramids and sarcophagi. And the brat will surely respond, there's a Batman in the pyramid? Nah? Then I donwanna this story. Tell me udder story wid Batman and Superman and Spiderman.
And Mamma will reply, ask your father. He's the man.