I occasionally have the impulse to write short children’s stories based on the narratives that emerge when I play with my son, like the eternal war of Monkey and Spider that we have going on. But today reminded me that that’s not necessarily a wise plan, because toddlers have only a passing acquaintance with civilized, or even humane, behavior.
He got dressed up in his cape and crown and wand (I tried to argue that it was a scepter, but no dice) this afternoon, and was King 2YO. King 2YO is the most terrifying tyrant I’ve ever heard of. The only punishment in his realm is having a limb sawed off, personally carried out by the monarch with a hand saw while he sings a little song of “Saw Saw Saw”. You hit Snow White? (Long story.) That’s a sawing. You’re the guy who sawed that other guy? That’s a sawing.
The cherry on top, though, is that King 2YO likes to tour his court with a chest full of his various treasures (doubloons, goblets, loose jewels, etc.), asks the courtiers what they think of his treasure, and then invites each courtier to eat a randomly selected piece of said treasure. I mean, that’s world-class crazed tyranny.
Under the circumstances, I think I prefer being the bearded spider struggling to devour an infinite supply of monkeys before they eat me, my beard, or my eggs (possibly all three).
That one’s probably not a great children’s story either.