I find it so, so hard to get my boys' bedrooms right. The last brush of paint hits the wall, I stand back to admire my work, and then they announce that they no longer love robots, dinosaurs are for children ('but you're four and six, you are children') and that their rooms could probably do with a bit more orange in them. Always, more orange. And, as relaxed as I am, I will never agree to paint the walls orange. Never! You just know the moment they move out, they're going to paint their own homes floor to ceiling in tangerine, don't you? I feel faint at the thought.