Why do our sweet boys behave in these stupid ways?

When the Fawn saw the selfies Boy had taken in the aftermath of his college football club’s initiation ceremony, first she burst into tears, then she was spittingly furious, then she finally settled into a state of gnawing anxiety and despair.

‘There’s a lesson there, son,’ I told him. ‘And I hope you’ve marked it well. There are some things you simply do not share with your mother on the family WhatsApp group.’

I hated having to say this because we’re one of those families that likes to be open about stuff. If my kids are ever going to end up doing drugs, say, I’d rather they did so after some expert advice from their dad — not guiltily and in secret at some scuzzy dealer’s dive. But still there are occasions when discretion is the better course — and that photo was definitely one of them.

It showed Boy, eyes dull and skin all blotchy from the previous night’s excess, his once lovely blond hair looking as if it had been attacked by a drunken ape wielding a barber’s electric razor.