Freya currently seems to be enamoured by a certain colour. Where she got this from, or why, I know not.

It started when we recently took away a toy trumpet of hers (that has never really worked properly), and promised to buy her a replacement. Then today I broke her xylophone mallet, which was lying invitingly on the bed when we were tidying up. She wasn’t at all sad about the incident, but stated that I should buy a new one.

The choice of colour for the trumpet and mallet? Blue.

Two days later she says that she is a baby: a blue baby.