Georgia wants to paint or colour all day long.  She will go through page after page of paper.  However, markers and crayons have to be counted in and out, in the same way narcotics are controlled at hospitals, lest we end up with contemporary art at knee level.

Ellis has less interest.  He likes to pour all of the paint out of the bottles into huge swirly puddles, preferably covering toy cars in the mess. All of his "pictures" he brings home from nursery are just blobs and scribbles, not unlike those of a few years ago.

However, his attention remained fixed for over an hour as we transformed an old table.

He told me later he wanted to be a painter. "But not a silly artist one. A serious one. I want to paint houses and walls".

He will be his father's death.