Q IS for quiet, a rare commodity with teenage boys who need noise around them almost as much as they need air to breathe.

Just to make sure that they're never plunged into silence - seriously scary - they usually leave something on in every room. Maybe two or three things. So there'll be radios, television, computer, CDs, all blaring out all over the house. Like the fine lady upon the white horse: "She shall have music wherever she goes." If you can call it music.

What's more, the house can be shaking with all the noise, the walls vibrating, the neighbours complaining, but in the middle of it all, boys can go to sleep. Gosh, and to think long ago, you used to tiptoe round the house terrified that the slightest sound might wake them.

Q is also of course for qualifications, pursuing which will probably not cause your son an iota of concern, but which will give you many a sleepless night, wrinkles, grey hairs and a sore throat from nagging. They are also likely to lead you into your local library, bookshop and onto many an internet site.

Yes, I know, their coursework is meant to be all their own work, but I reckon if people in top public schools are getting £20,000 worth of teaching every year, then the least our kids deserve is a bit of help finding things out. Fair's fair.

Q is also for questions. When they were little these were easy. You know: "Why is the sky blue?, "Where did we come from?", "Where do hamsters go when they die?" Just straightforward, meaning of life stuff. Now they get trickier, as in: "Why can't we go to Florida twice a year?", "Why can't I have a motorbike?", "What's the point of getting qualifications when you've got lots and you're still broke?", "Why can't I sleep all day?" and "If you were into sex, drugs and rock and roll, then why can't I be?"

Which is why you need quality time. Ho ho. It is impossible to timetable your children to suit your convenience at any age. Even more so with teenagers. You come in with a special treat for supper and a nice trashy video you can watch together, and he's sloped off to his mates. You plan a family day out and he shoves his hands in his pockets, raises his eyes briefly from the floor and looks at you as if you are certifiably insane.

But on the day you've planned to suit yourself, or when you're dashing out to meet a friend or fetch a younger sibling, or when you're getting ready for visitors, then your little boy will heave a deep sigh and say tentatively "Mu-um...." Something he has worried about, thought about, is anxious about is about to be articulated. It takes great physical effort and the words seem to come up all the way from his size 11 boots. Unless there's a national emergency, this is where you have to stop and listen. You must. It could be days, weeks, months before he makes the effort again, and it could just be important.

And Q is also for quidditch. Which is just a reminder that if your boy is still little and driving you demented with his passion for Harry Potter, then relax and enjoy it. In a few years' time, life is going to get a lot more complicated and you'll need all the magic spells you can get.