Fads from the madding crowd

How I long for the days when the kids would guzzle rubbish, noses buried in crisp bags, pockets rattling with sweeties, when the skatepark would phone me to come and collect them because they’d OD’D on Red Bull and were running up the walls without skateboards – hey it’s called parkour, leave them alone. Nowadays they’re all avocado this and kumquat that, has this coffee been washed? Do I look like a woman with time to wash coffee?

I’ve had a bar of chocolate in my bag for a week now (I don’t really like chocolate, but not for health reasons) and I can’t find anyone to offload it on. “Ooh, sugar, no,” says one, “I’m fasting,” says another, “I’ll have an apple,” says the third. They don’t fool me, healthy is just a front for picky. And expensive.

Eldest is being so healthy he’s currently vegan and as of last week carbohydrate free. Which is news to Middle Child who is making the tea, when I arrive home from work.

“Grilled salmon mousse brioche and feta, coriander, tomato, cucumber and leaves salad,” he says. “Sit down mum, have a cup of tea while I cook.” Aw. “Smells amazing,” says Eldest. “But it’s bread. S’OK, I’ll scrape the mousse off. And pick out the feta.” “What?” says Middle. “I’m not eating carbohydrates.” “Aren’t you hungry?” “A bit,” says Eldest. “But I’ve noticed I’m not as sleepy. Carbohydrates made me sleepy.”

“Yeah, that’s why I gave you pizzas and pasta and toasties and popcorn when you had sleepovers,” I tell him.

“Oh. We thought it was cos you loved us and wanted us to have fun.” “No.” “So what’s the problem with gluten?” says Eldest, obviously considering adding it to his picky list.

“Nothing,” I snap. “Only 1 per cent of people are coeliacs, the rest are…”

“Too much of it makes your penis explode,” says Middle, unexpectedly.

“Saw it on South Park. Come on, let’s eat.” n