This is your world.
Funny sort of place, isn’t it. But the giants are mostly kind to you, even if the occasional stranger does poke a sharp into your fat little thighs, and sometimes the things that you cram into your mouth taste wonderful.
That green stuff? That’s grass. Yes, you can pull it. Don’t eat the twigs. That? Oh, baby, no – that was a stone. You might choke on that. I know that you’re crying now but shush, it’s okay, it wouldn’t have tasted good anyway.
If all goes well with this parenting lark and you live fortunate lives, your mummy and Josephine and I will not see how your stories end. It makes me a little sad to think about, but I think that it’s okay – watching you grow old will be as painful as it makes us proud, but to know a world that no longer has you in it is unthinkable.
I will do my best to keep this world intact for you, to better it for you. I look forward to seeing what you will do with it.