When I first met Mark I thought he bore an uncanny resemblance to Damien from 'The Omen'. I know - not pleasant, and probably not the sort of thing you want to share, right? Except, I figured that with this kid, it probably was. And he thought that was great. He loves those scary kids books with monsters and vampire pirates, and he does a great impression of a zombie.

So it's become an in joke between us.

Except.

Secretly, I have this tiny fear that he really will turn into Damien. After all, it's not like his sister's that far off. And he is a teenager. So when he pretends to be 'evil child' there is occasionally a nervousness to my laughter.

Now this is not entirely fair. He is a fantastic child, and his enthusiasm for practically everything on the planet is pretty infectious, as is his hyper energy level. However, Jason has mentioned that he has changed an awful lot since he started coming to stay with us, a little over a year ago. Once upon a time he was showing signs of becoming more difficult than Angelica is now. He would suddenly go into rages and was liable to stomp off, no matter where they were, with no regard for his own safety, and then get impossibly lost. Jason thinks this was the testosterone flaring for the first time, but he is still impressed by the transformation that Mark underwent. Surely the hormones must still be there surging away when the lights go out?

And that's what I'm worried about. Mark has never behaved badly in my presence. I walked in on the remnants of a strop about a year ago, and my presence must have made him decide it wasn't worth holding on to, as he snapped out of it pretty quickly. Life's far more fun when you stop sweating the small stuff (who moved my cheese?) and concentrate on enjoying yourself.

Nevertheless, I have, on occasion, watched the seeds of a strop appear, looking for a place to germinate. When his sister is winding him up, when his father is teasing him just a little too much, I can see him beginning to get angry and then change his mind at the last minute. We had one of those at the weekend - Mark and Jason were chasing each other around the house as I was cooking. It resembled a school playground very closely - underwear was yanked into cracks, wet fingers were poked into ears and I would hear sporadic roars followed by Mark shouting 'nipple cripple!'

Men.

Anyway, Jason got the last one in and as Mark recounted the attack to me, I could see his righteous indignation swell and the frown he wore grew darker. I got scared - he didn't seem to be clearing this potential storm. So I asked him about the number of times *he* managed to get his father.

That worked. The clouds cleared and he delighted in revealing the minutiae of his attacks.

I love this boy. But I am afraid that a horrible hormonal teenaged nightmare might yet reside within that cheerful, mischievous heart. After all, as Smirking Cat rightly pointed out - teenagers aren't fun. Certainly not 24/7, anyway.

So I'm a little apprehensive. I really hope it doesn't happen; but isn't that whole Jekyll and Hyde thing kind of inevitable for teens?