Every mother of teenage boys knows the terrifying sight of a hungry boy standing at the fridge slowly surveying the contents. If there’s “nothing to eat” the fridge light flickers, the door slams and a junk food proprietor calls. Other days, leftovers vanish and potential meals become snacks. Then there really is nothing to eat.
Once I was out walking and stopped in my tracks.
“Oh my God,” I said, “I’ve left Sean at home with a roast lamb.” Lo and behold, there was no lamb to speak of by the time I got home.
At 18 years old, my son Reilly stands at 195 cm and weighs 90 kg, with newly hairy and ‘hollow legs’. Like his older brother Sean, when he’s hungry he’s really hungry. But even when he’s not, he’s still happy to graze on whatever is available. Some mornings I swear he’s grown taller overnight. Growing that body plus all the sports and activities we encourage to keep him busy and focused, evidently takes a lot of fuel.