It all makes sense now.
I thought it was just power napping that gave him the ability to wake up at 4 in the morning and immediately be running around the room at 100 miles an hour.
And maybe it was just the fact that The Rolling Stones hits a special part of his body so that when we go into his room for a much-needed nap after lunch and he sees his i-Pod he is instantly turned into a Jumping Jack Flash.
The constant banging of his leg, even while relaxing I put down to nervous energy, after all my brother does exactly the same thing.
And I put the seemingly never-ending desire to run around in muddy puddles down to a childhood enthusiasm. I mean, if I could be arsed I would be splashing around in puddles all day long as well, I ‘d just rather watch him doing it.
But no. It turns out that this boundless source of energy is in fact rocket fuel. Rocket fuelled babies, it just has to be true.