Keeping The Wolf From The Door

How does hair know when to stop? I was thinking of this while observing the Giant Boy's massively hirsute thighs. It seems only months ago that I was blowing raspberries on his smooth little kicky legs.Try that now and you would lose the skin off your lips,and gain a smack in the mouth. A small window of prosperity and enough food has caused a race of mammoths to be born to me and my contemporaries, and we cower in the shadows as they stalk the land, demanding cash and polo shirts. I was always considered tall-ish,scion of a  tall family.Several of my forbears were in the Irish Guards,where you had to be strapping.There was at one time an additional hazard to joining them,by the way, which was that you stood a good chance of being collected by mad King Ludwig of Bavaria. They didn't call him that to his face, the "mad" bit. A wonky gentleman even by the high standards set by insane European monarchs; he got together a collection of the tallest and butchest chaps from every country he had heard of, dressed them in preposterous Galliano-style uniforms,and had them march around his bed every morning,just to set him up for a busy day's kinging. Two of them were from the Irish Guards. I would dearly have loved to have been party to the conversations in the guard house, prior to this daily parade. Ludwig was considered eccentric as a result of pathological shyness; his avoidance of state business; his complex and expensive flights of fancy, including moonlit picnics at which his young guardsmen  were said to strip naked and dance; conversations with imaginary persons; sloppy and childish table manners; dispatching servants on lengthy and expensive voyages to research architectural details in foreign lands; and abusive, sometimes violent treatment of his servants. Oh, and he was thought to be a werewolf.

"Monarchs surely don't come scarier
Than loopy Ludwig of Bavaria
He would stare at the moon
And howl like a loon
Whilst his legs became hairier and hairier "

I translated this rather hurriedly from High German, but you get the gist.
I wonder when HIS mother began to notice? I shall monitor the GB for signs of lycanthropy;big holes in the rear of his pants? Check. Growling? Likewise. Peculiar behaviour, slavering, and unnatural appetite for meat? Well,yes, but I put that down to a mixture of puberty and being half-French. Oh dear.  There is a school trip to a farm at some point.This would clearly be madness, and I must write him a note. "Please excuse GB from the planned trip to Fluffy Baby Animals Farm, as he has recently become a werewolf".  And he wasn't even a Cub..
He will have an unfair advantage when it comes to cross-country running, though. And may over-literally demonstrate the function of "Changing Rooms". Well, I shan't worry about it overmuch; I know lots of people who become perfectly unbearable once a month. Not sure how you calculate the dates of lunar months; I expect there is an App for it somewhere though. And a helpline..I know, I shall call NHS Direct. They were very good about the worm. I will let you know how I get on.