[Sitting in the bottom bunk of the boys’ bunk beds, with a blanket thrown over the top bunk to create a den.]
J: We need that lion.
D: OK. Isn’t he a bit fierce to come in our den.
J: No! He very friendly.
D: OK. I’ll get him.
J: No! I’ll get him. You stay here. I must go.
D: OK. Go on then.
J: [Clambering out of the den, grunting] Look out from lions.
D: OK, I will.
J: And bears.
D: And bears, OK.
J: And ladders. You might fall down them. [Drags toy lion into den, grunting] What vat noise?
D: It’s just the radio.
J: It’s a monster.
D: Oh dear. We’d better tell it not to come in our den.
J: Whack it with a hammer.
D: Yes, we could whack it with a hammer, I suppose.
J: Dandad got a hammer.
D: Yes, Grandad has got a hammer.
J: For whacking monsters.
D: Well, among other things, yes, if you like.
J: Dandad not whack bunny, or vat dog.
D: No, he wouldn’t do that.
J: Or bunny, no.
D: No, he wouldn’t whack your bunny.
J: Just monsters.
D: Yes, just monsters.
This whole discussion reads like a hilarious exchange of J saying something really extraordinary, and you trying to take it in without too much surprise. Even in the innocence of childhood, humans are really violent, aren’t they? Is this what you thought when you hesitated with “I suppose”?
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