Tonight I was reading my two boys, 6 & 8, the third-to-the-last chapter of
Monsieur Eek
by David Ives, a fabulously subversive children's book about what happens when the 21 citizens of the fictional coastal town of MacOongafoondsen discover a shipwreck.
-- more --
The only occupant of the boat is a monkey who they name Monsieur Eek because he cheerfully answers "eek" to everything. Having apparently never met either a monkey or a Frenchman, the town powers-that-be decide that Monsieur Eek is an French spy, put him on trial for a recent spate of unsolved crimes, and sentence him to die. (oddly enough the book was published in 2001)
In tonight's chapter, with a noose around Monsieur Eek's neck and the stool about to be kicked out from beneath him, I was a bit worried that I would have to read something very nasty to the kids, but the town bailiff and mayor, who acted as prosecuter and judge in Eek's trial, are revealed to be the villains responsible for the unsolved crimes, and the monkey's life is spared.
As I tucked my boys in, I said something about how the story teaches you that sometimes people in positions of power abuse their trust, and it's the responsibility of the people to make sure that their leaders do the right thing. And Patrick, my amazing six-year-old slugger, who, according to his teacher, would have been president of his kindergarten class if such a position existed, said -- I kid you not -- "That's right, Daddy, just like George Bush. The people know they can't trust him."
That's my boy!