Tonight in the Lavan family, after the dinner.
Son, handing out the zappers (we have four) : “Here’s your kill, Daddy. And I have a kill, and this one is for Baby Iona.”
Husband : “Oh, so this is for switching Mummy off, is it ? Can we change the channel and see what happens ?”
Son : “No, they are for killing. Now, let’s all get ready for killing Mummy.”
Coming to me with a smile and poking me with the zapper : “You’re killed ! You’re killed !”
Me, tickling him back : “We don’t kill people, it is not nice. We don’t play at killing people.” Him : “But yes, we can go outside and kill somebody if we want to.” Me : “No, we can’t and if we do, we’ll go to prison.” Whatever.
Now all this was quite a surprise because my son is a pretty mild little chap whom I have never seen hitting anybody. He is afraid of slides. How on earth does the nursery manage to turn him into a serial killer, I have no idea. He obviously has no idea what the word means, but seems to hear it a lot there. My antimilitarist husband, who will never allow the purchase of toy guns, is in for a treat. (But he wasn’t the one who was being killed). I have to say I liked it better when he wanted to be Masterchef (he thinks that’s Michel Roux Jr’s name). I wonder what games his sister will come up with, considering she is a lot more of a fighter.