Colouring books for adults are all the rage nowadays. My Maid of All Work, Carmen, has taken up the trend. Is she regressing back to her childhood I wonder? It is a worry. She's sat on the couch as I type, merrily scratching away with her coloured pencils, her tongue is lolling out, she looks like a simpleton.
Colouring-in pretty pictures isn't going to get the washing-up done or the beds made, is it?