I've just come back from blackberrying along the lane with our neighbours' son, aged 9.
While I dutifully picked - and anticipated pies and crumble with each berry that dropped into my bowl - my young helper soon lost interest.
He picked rose hips and elderberries which became missiles to lob at everything in sight. I cowered under a hail of small berries and innocent cows dozing in the sunshine were pelted with under-ripe hips. He described the possibility of stripping the leaves off a particularly vicious thorned briar and using it as a weapon. The very thought sent a shiver up my spine. He scrambled over gates, shouted at sheep and grubbed around in the hedge bottom occasionally emitting war-like yelps.
An excellent example of 'man the warrior' I think in contrast to my nurturing, berry gathering passivity.
PS He is really a very nice lad.