Last night there was a small moth in the house, which had alighted on the wall in the hall. On his way up to bed I showed it to Max, who took one look at it and declared, “I don’t like moths.”
So Juliet and I explained a bit about what moths are and how pretty their wings can be (“a bit like a small butterfly,” we said, which Max really latched on to). I touched it gently to make it move and flutter its wings. All this clearly had the desired effect, because Max then turned and said, “I like moths.”
Gosh, at this rate I might become a half decent parent.