Paul & I generally read a book together, with a short daily snippet accompanying our morning tea (how sweet, I hear you say, not meaning the cuppa). Recently we’ve been re-reading that delightful story “The Little Grey Men” by “BB” (D J Watkins-Pitchford) about three little gnomes searching for their missing brother. It was written in 1942 and the little boy portrayed in the story (Robin) is clearly a product of the time. When his brand new clockwork boat disappears across the lake he blames Mummy for not setting the rudder to make it turn back (“Just like a woman!” says the text). He doesn’t know it’s heading for the island where the gnomes are stranded. I think if I’d had this read to me as a child, budding social scientist that I was, I’d have asked what happened to the little men’s mummy, or didn’t they have any sisters? My own children, both budding biological scientists, decided gnomes are just like snails, hermaphrodites. Children today would probably ask why the shipwrecked trio on the island didn’t use their G4 mobiles to summon help!
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