Five rooms, one company

The office was the first room. The rest are departments of the same company, running on the same engine, under the same rules: nothing breaks, nothing keeps score, nothing collects a thing about your child, and every one of them works with the Wi-Fi switched off once it has loaded.

They are not separate apps and there is nothing to install. Pick the one she is interested in this week. She can keep the same company name in all of them.

Each room has three places to stand, reached from the same row of tiles at the bottom of the screen. Three and not more: the thing that keeps a room navigable for a two-year-old is that the row stays short enough to be a place rather than a menu.

• The office — A desk, four apps, and a keyboard that cannot break anything. open it
• The kitchen — Keys throw ingredients. The pot takes whatever it is given. open it
• The airport — Every key sends one aircraft. The board keeps up, mostly. open it
• The orchestra — Each row of keys is a section. Nothing is out of tune. open it
• The vet — Animals arrive. Keys hand out plasters and gentle boops. open it

One more room arrives when it is genuinely finished, and not on a schedule. Rooms that nobody uses get closed rather than kept alive for the look of it.