Arrival of the Tripp Trapp

Just after we told everyone that I was pregnant, my mum and I had a conversation that went something like…
‘Mum, there’s something I want to ask you.’
‘What do you mean, no?’
‘I know what you’re going to ask, and no, you can’t have the Tripp Trapp. I’ll need it for when Harriet comes to stay.’
This might sound mean-spirited of my mum, but it really isn’t. It just shows the monumental significance my family puts on these chairs. Mum’s three sisters each have two in their houses, my step-mother has another. Mum vividly remembers the day her Tripp Trapp arrived… she was so excited and eager to see it, she let me cry while she assembled it.

My Tripp Trapp arrived yesterday, complete with its baby rail and a free cushion set. I put it up while my Dad held the baby, who grizzled. The grizzling stopped pretty fast.

We ate breakfast together this morning, or rather I ate breakfast, Harriet ate her plate.

And now I have to try to reconcile Swedish modern into my P.G. Wodehouse chic apartment.


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