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.