What's in a name?

I remember singing Incy Wincy Spider to the kids when they were little, at bedtime. Oh, I know that one too, said Thomas and he happily sang:

Lille Peter Edderkop kravled op ad muren.

Så kom regnen og skylled Peter væk.

Så kom solen og tørred Peters krop.

Lille Peter Edderkop kravled atter op.

So, apparently Incy Wincy was just a stage name and the wee spider was actually called Little Peter Spider! Who knew?

Roll forward a year or two and the girls are playing with the two big Winnie the Poohs that mum and dad had given them when they were born. What are you two up to? I ask innocently, only to receive the reply: Playing with Peter. Peter who, I wonder, given the only Peter they know is their German Grandpa and they call him Großvater, not Peter. The girls show me Winnie the Pooh and call him Peter. I am seriously puzzled till they pick up the book daddy has been reading them as a bedtime story and it is entitled Peter Plys, Peter Plush.

Ok, so whoever was in charge of naming kiddie things didn't have much imagination, but whatever... 

The following Christmas they are watching a DVD their Danish aunt and uncle have sent them on the TV. I can see a little monkey, with a bloke all dressed in yellow. I make a coffee and snuggle down on the couch to watch with them muttering something about Curious George when the three wee ones look at me completely blank. I tune in mentally and hear the audio is in Danish. It's Curious George, I repeat louder and they chorus back, No it's not, it's Peter Pedal! I give up!

So, here's my rule of thumb, if you find yourself watching TV with any Danish kids at any point and you don't know the name of the character in the show, just call them Peter and you're likely to pass for a native!

Addendum!

Not a week after writing this, Thomas is chatting to the kids (as always in Danish) and mentions the word væltepeter. What on earth could that be, I ask myself, understanding the components of the word but not its meaning. At vælte means to topple or knock over and Peter, once again is of course, Peter! So what on earth is a 'topple Peter!' I put it into Google images and come face to face with a faded vintage photo of a penny farthing bicycle! Poor Peter taking the brunt of it all again! Danes are weird...

Superabundant taxidermy

Is it a Denmark thing? Is it maybe a Funen thing? What is it with primary schools and their endless displays of stuffed dead animals? Everything from hares, to birds, to every type of rodent you can expect to find under the sun, the Danish sun at least? All with those creepy beady eyes staring maniacally at nothing in a vaguely menacing manner. Perhaps Denmark accidentally trained too many taxidermists back in the 50s and 60s and needed to find something for them to do? I'm puzzled!

I first noticed it when we were visiting folkeskoler (Danish state schools for kids aged 6-15) back in 2019. Even the tiniest of village schools had a proud display of dead stuff. I wondered if they were used in biology lessons, or maybe in art lessons? Are they simply remnants of a time when introducing young kids to what the native animals looked like wasn't as simple as googling 'Danish water shrew' or the likes?

As a child I remember vividly finding the stuffed dead things exhibits in Glasgow's magnificent Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum a bit alarming too. Did their eyes follow me as I walked by? My other half subscribes to an amusing Facebook group of exceedingly poorly stuffed pathetic little beasts. But in a way, I think all stuffed animals look kind of like that to me. I've never looked at a dead owl with its glassy eyes staring through me and thought, how magnificent, I've simply thought yeuch!

Over the last week we've been to see most of the gymnasier (an upper high school/college for kids aged 16-20 ish) within driving distance of our house as Anna is in her last year at state school and needs to apply to one in the next six weeks. We've been to open nights and we've been on school tours and once again we've been met by corridor upon corridor of rigid corpses staring at us willing us to choose their school. I would love to know how and why this tradition came about and whether I'm weird in my slightly squeamish attitude to it all!