My seven-year-old niece is as quizzical and questioning as all those in possession of a growing mind should be, and blunt in her put-downs if she thinks you’re talking nonsense.
“Do you want to see a photo of my flamingo wallpaper?”
A glance. A sideways look.
“They are not flamingoes, they are not pink, they are swans.”
Fair enough. I guess the design fancies of an expensive wallpaper company shouldn’t really mess with nature and expect to get away with it. We, on the other hand, can: meet the Swangoes.