His choice of books at the library: Deadly Predators, Shark Attack and Military Helicopters. I tried to persuade him to maybe choose something else, but he was resolute. Nearby, there was a meeting of new mums, tiny babies curled into their arms, listening earnestly and nervously to advice about what to read to their child. I wanted to warn them that one day, despite all the hours spent reading beautifully illustrated picture books and finely crafted traditional tales, their little darling will gravitate towards the books with ugly photos of sharp teethed animals and machinery. But that would be cruel.
When we got home, I read the military helicopter book to him. He sat and listened, slightly perplexed. Later, at bedtime, he flicked through the book once again.
"I don't really like this helicopter book... it's all about killing...but I want to know about killing because then I can stop all the killing."
Holy moly, he's three years old!